


Words are Hard, This is Easier

by KaliRaven



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Business Jargon/Talk, Crowley Smokes, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, I'm not a Shill I Swear, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Relationship Troubles (but they work through it), Romantic Gestures, Sassy Aziraphale, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliRaven/pseuds/KaliRaven
Summary: Aziraphale wasn’t good with change. He enjoyed his routines, enjoyed his cocoa, but most of all, enjoyed his time with Crowley at the Ritz. However, when Head Office cuts Aziraphale off, he’s forced to run his bookshop as an actual business, complete with selling part of his precious collections. But first, major renovations need to made. Can Aziraphale stand to turn his life upside down? Perhaps he can with the help of Crowley and a lot of patience between the two of them.





	1. In Which a Serpent and an Angel Dine at the Ritz.

There was something soft about Aziraphale, something warm and enlightening that enveloped whomever he was talking to. Maybe it was his smile or maybe it was the way he wasn’t afraid to create contact between himself and another person. For an angel, he was certainly an odd one, unafraid to bring himself down to whoever he was dealing with and made them feel like an equal.

Most angels, Crowley mused, were very otherworldly in the way they interacted with humans. They were holier-than-thou, they had an attitude, and most of all, they dressed like they were stuck in some high rise banking skyscraper and never left. Aziraphale, however, had a subtle charm about him with his two-hundred-year-old suit that hugged his body in all the right places and the way his hair never seemed to want to obey gravity and his bright smile and charming can-do attitude.

Crowley found himself waiting on a lunch meeting, as he called them, sitting on Aziraphale’s old rattan couch in the back of his bookstore while the owner whisked himself around in a most happy fashion assisting the few customers there were. Honestly, with the four people in the store, this was the busiest Crowley had seen it in years. He guessed people still remembered the place on fire and came to see what the damage was, only to see the bookstore transported back in time before the damage. That had to be a mindfuck for a lot of people. One that was enticing them to come in, at least. Aziraphale seemed happy about it.

Crowley took a sip of wine from the half-full glass he was nursing. As a demon, he was obligated to say he didn’t suffer from human needs. As someone who had been on Earth for six thousand years now, he would never admit it, but eating was sort of fun and a nice way to spend time with his foodie friend who was now wasting his time he felt like. Yet, he continued to sit and sip his wine, biding his time. It’s not like he had anywhere to be, after all.

For Aziraphale, this was a most joyous time. His bookstore was bustling, he had a most wonderful lunch date waiting on him (Aziraphale never minded using the term date for his and Crowley’s meetings), and things were finally looking up post Aramegeddon’t, as he called it. He could feel the surly demon sitting in the back of his shop, yet, there was a calm aura about him. Everytime he would look up, he would catch Crowley staring at him with a trademark smirk on his face. Every now and then, he would raise his glass of wine at Aziraphale before taking another sip. He seemed content to wait which was almost abnormal for Crowley, being a demon and impatient and all. Still, Aziraphale was not one to question things when they seemed to be going well. There were so few times like these in recent memory.

The shop cleared out a short twenty minutes later with all of the customers buying at least one book, except the chap in the brown vest and jacket combo who bought four old classics, which put a smile on Aziraphale’s face that seemed to stretch from ear to ear. Satisfied with himself, Aziraphale shuffled himself to the front door, switched his open sign to close, and practically skipped to Crowley in the back of the shop.

“Well, that took forever. I didn’t think they were ever going to leave.” Crowley threw back the last of the wine in his glass and placed it down with a sharp click on the side-table next to him.

“Nonsense, dear. This is how my shop stays afloat after all! Must bring in money to pay the bills and all of that! You know how it goes, you pay for your flat after all.”

“I thought you owned this building.” Crowley drawled while heaving himself up from the old and sunken in couch. Aziraphale really did need to start replacing his furniture. Character was one thing but not being able to pull yourself out of what was practically a black hole of a cushion was another.

“Well, I do own the building but I still have utilities: electric, water, regular shipments of books, stuff like that. It’s not like I can just miracle those bills away!” Aziraphale laughed at his own joke while Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Why not? I do. You don’t think I actually pay rent do you? Haven’t paid rent since I moved there.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale rolled on his heels as Crowley walked back him. “You can’t do that! That’s stealing!” He was practically aghast. 

“What? Like home office cares? I’m a demon, Angel. It’s what we do. Now, we still going to the Ritz or not? We shouldn’t be too late for our reservation at this pace.” Crowley sealed his point with a flick of his wrist and his hand on his hip.

A dramatic sigh left the angel’s lips. He knew that was Crowley’s way of shutting down an argument but he still had a few thoughts on the matter. Still, he knew pressing the issue would also mean forgoing his date to the Ritz, and to Aziraphale, good food and good company took a bit more priority.

“Oh, very well, I suppose. Let me just grab my wallet from behind the coun-”

“No need. My treat, Angel.” Aziraphale turned around in shock. Crowley never offered to pay for both of them. They always paid separate or Aziraphale paid for the both of them. It was pretty much the only way to get Crowley to agree. He knew demons couldn’t accrue Earthly debts without getting into trouble with the Head Office, both given and expected. It was why every time they went out to eat, Aziraphale always had to explicitly state it was a gift or not to worry about it, it was covered. “Well, come on then, let’s go. We’re already late!” With a saunter, Crowley was out the door before Aziraphale could even pick his jaw up off the ground. Something was going on, and Aziraphale intended to find out what.

With a quick jaunt, Aziraphale was right behind Crowley, who practically throwing himself into his Bentley. Aziraphale hurried over to the passenger’s side and quickly closed the door, barely making it before Crowley started taking off.

“I know we’re running late but are we really running that late?” Aziraphale was struggling with his seatbelt which insisted on locking every time he tried to pull it across his chest.

“We are if we want to beat traffic. Miracles only go so far Angel on the M25.” Crowley took a moment to run his fingers through his hair in the rearview mirror, admiring his style.

“Well, the M25 was your doing - CROWLEY, THE ROAD, WATCH THE ROAD.” Looking back to the road, Crowley jerked the steering wheel just in time to avoid causing a multi-car pileup of cars parked, trying to make a left-hand turn.

“What? I’ve got it. I’ve never had an accident before. Calm down.” Crowley rolled his eyes and pushed his accelerator down even further, cruising at a solid 90MPH in London traffic.

“I’m not sure how. You go so fast, Crowley. It’s amazing neither of us have been inconveniently discorporated.”

“Like I would ever put us in any real danger. C’mon, at this rate we’ll just make our reservation. You can get those scallops you like and that Tournedos of Beef and I’ll get some sea bass and we’ll call it a day, yeah?”

“I do like scallops.” Aziraphale immediately perked up at the mention of seafood. Crowley was a bit of a dick for it but after six thousand years, he pretty much knew how to manipulate Aziraphale is getting off his case almost instantly: seafood, cake, tea, champagne, and books were his go-to distractors. Still wasn’t enough to get him to let go of the passenger's panic handle though

The two rolled up to the valet of the restaurant. Crowley tossed the oncoming valet driver his keys and slipped him a hundred as he walked past; his unspoken way of saying “that car gets so much as a scratch and your ass is mine”. Aziraphale was a bit slower to get out, carefully taking his time to smooth out his wrinkles after he stood up.

“Your seats are so deep. They’re nice but I’m always a little bit discombobulated when I get up.”

“Not as deep as your couch cushions. I almost didn’t get out of them today.” Crowley sauntered into the restaurant, his presence alerting both the maître d' and several busboys. “Uh, yeah, reservation for two. Under Anthony J Crowley.”

The maître d’ took several moments to flip through his reservation book before relaxing his shoulders at the sight of Crowley’s name listed for a 1:30PM reservation. “Of course sirs, right this way.” Both men were led to a table on the terrace with a view of downtown London and the The Ritz’s growing flower terraces. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

The afternoon was a cool one, just perfectly warm with a slight cool breeze to keep the sweat at bay. The sun was shining through a partly cloudy day and the air was crisp.

“Yes, thank you.” Aziraphale adjusted himself in his chair and shot the maître d’ a smile as he settled in. “So Crowley, you’re being awfully nice today.” a small smirk crossed Aziraphale’s face. He knew this was going to get right under Crowley’s skin. “Buying us lunch and all of that. So what’s going on to cause all of this?”

Crowley hissed a “shut up” before covering his face with his menu. Like hell he was going to let Aziraphale see him blush. He would admit he had developed even more of a soft spot for the angel since Armageddon’t than he already had before. The spot had grown even softer since they had switched bodies to survive their Trials and he felt the love Aziraphale had for him. He wasn’t sure if it was romantic or platonic on Aziraphale’s end but he knew which one it was on his end.

“Oh Crowley, you must admit it is pretty curious. You can’t hide behind that menu forever.” Aziraphale’s sing-song voice caused his blush to deepen even further and his fingers peeked over Crowley’s menu.

"What can I get you gentlemen to drink this afternoon?” A waitress appeared at what Crowley felt was a miracle worthy time. With a forced miracle on himself, Crowley banished the blush from his face and sat up straight in his seat.

“I’ll have a Bollinger R.D. 2004, please. Aziraphale?”

“I’ll have one as well, thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll have those right out.” The waitress turned on her heels and was gone before Crowley could even tear his eyes away from Aziraphale.

“So, before you ask again, I cashed out one of my war bonds from World War II. I have some money floating about and figured why not treat my friend to a nice lunch like he has done for me so many times?”

“Oh, friend?” Aziraphale practically beamed at the word. His face lit up and Crowley could practically see his wings ethereally come out in glee. “Are we friends again?”

“Oh Angel, did we ever stop being friends?” Crowley said dripping with sarcasm. He knew exactly when they stopped being friends on several occasions, but to him, this wasn’t a time of looking back. The two had been through too much together now to ever consider not being friends for at least the next several hundred years.

“Well, there was that one time -” Aziraphale rang his hands together and looked downcast.

“Not important.” Crowley waved his hand at Aziraphale before he could look like too much of a kicked puppy, “What’s important now is what our future holds. Granted Head Office may come for both of us but right now, in this moment in time, we’re having a nice lunch and a nice afternoon.” Crowley finished his thought as the waitress came back with two bottles of champagne and two wine glasses. Both men watched the waitress pour two three quarters full glasses before taking out her pen and paper.

“And are you two ready to order?”

“Oh, yes!” Aziraphale perked up, “I will start off with an Isle of Mull Scallop. I will have the Cutlet and Fillet of New Season Lamb for my main course and finally, the Crepes Suzette for my dessert.” Because of course Aziraphale wouldn’t be Aziraphale unless there were crepes somewhere in his diet. He looked so damn pleased with himself at that as well.

“And for you sir?” The waitress turned to face Crowley.

“Uh, yeah, let me start off with Norfolk Crab and then move into Tournedos of Beef, and finally I guess I’ll have a Amedei Chocolate Mousse for dessert.” The poor waitress was barely able to keep up with how fast Crowley rattled off his order.

“Of course, let me grab these menus out of your way and your food will be out shortly!” And with that, the waitress was gone.

“So, you’re awfully optimistic today.” Aziraphale verbally pointed at Crowley.

“What? Can’t a demon have a nice day once in awhile?” Crowley practically sloshed his champagne with his exaggerated motions of feigned frustration. Aziraphale just gave a soft smile and Crowley could practically feel the harmonious love coming off of him. It was comforting and yet drove his inner instincts absolutely nuts.

Aziraphale was a man of love. His entire language was of love and time. His passions were soft, caring, warm, everything Crowley felt he wasn’t. Crowley was a man of passion. His language was one of actions and deeds. His fires burned bright, his actions were harsh and fast, he was a demon who lived to create chaos and heartache while the man sitting across from him lived to make them warm and whole. They were two sides of the same coin and yet Crowley never felt like they were meant to be together. He wanted them to be but at the same time they were two different beings and the phrase “Crowley, you go too fast for me” was permanently etched in his brain.

Maybe that was why he started to slow down. He didn’t know why but he found himself having a lot more time on his hands and most of it was dedicated to Aziraphale lately. Slow lunch meetings, time spent hanging out in his bookshop, time spent in the park admiring the people around them. There was a lot of time and all he could think about was spending it with Aziraphale.  
Why, oh why, did he have to feel this way?

“You can have good days but one must wonder why you are suddenly taking the time to appreciate it.” Aziraphale took a sip of his champagne and looked at Crowley over his glass.

“Well, as you may have noticed, ever since we saved the world I’ve had a bit more time on my hands. Head Office is giving me some space since you freaking them out with the holy water trick.” Aziraphale chucked at the memory of splashing water at a room full of demons and making Archangel Michael miracle him a towel. By God did that feel good after all the crap his own Head Office put him through. “Thought I might take it slower for a few days. Enjoy the view and all of that since it’s no longer fire and brimstone, you know?”

“Yes, fire and brimstone. I seem to recall a lot of it when The Dark Lord came to visit.” Aziraphale sat down his glass with a dainty click. Crowley, however, took the opportunity to down the rest of his glass in one motion. 

Aziraphale always gave him grief for never savoring his meals or drinks. Crowley retorted that he never saw the point in taking two hours to eat a meal. Still, he was more than happy to wait while Aziraphale did take his full two hours to eat. Something about the way the man was able to enjoy the smaller things in life was beautiful to him. The way he would relish those last few pieces, dab his mouth, and practically groan “scrumptious” was amazing to him.

“Hey, our new friend was able to scare him off quite nicely I would think.” Crowley helped himself to his bottle and poured a new glass, this one slightly more full than the waitress had.

“Not sure scare is the right word but we’ll go with it.” Aziraphale huffed.

“It seems like a good word.” Crowley took another swig from his glass and sat it down with a hard thump.

“Well, regardless, we did buy ourselves some time. You do have a point that we might as well enjoy it.”

“I’d knew you’d come around Angel. What better way to kick things off than lunch at the Ritz, eh?”

“I do enjoy their scallops. They’re always perfectly cooked.” A small grin peeked from Aziraphale’s lips. He was definitely a man of passion for food along with everything else. Crowley, while passionate about many actions, rarely found passion for things outside of his plants. Again, two sides of the same coin, never destined to see each other.

As if on cue, their first courses arrives with Crowley’s Norfolk Crab and Aziraphale’s Isle of Mull scallops.

“Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous.” Aziraphale practically cooed over his food. The plating was divine though Crowley would never admit that. He accepted his own plate with a curt nod raised his glass of champagne to the waitress.

The two ate in silence for several minutes before Aziraphale finally gathered the courage to ask about the elephant in the room, “So Crowley,”

“Yeah?” You would think after six thousand years, Crowley would have learned some manners but whether he did to annoy Aziraphale or he did it because he simply didn’t care, Crowley still had a habit of talking with his mouth full as he shoved food in as fast as he could chew it.

“Why did you cash out one of your bonds? You apparently don’t pay rent and you haven’t bought petrol since the forties, so why the need for cash?” Aziraphale’s question almost sounded accusatory. The way he stared down Crowley between bits of his food didn’t help either.

“Man needs spending cash every once in awhile, doesn’t he? It’s not cheap to keep myself in nice suits and my plants in nice fertilizer.” Another large swig of champagne down the hatch. He was nervous, Aziraphale could tell. What he was nervous about was another question.

“So you cashed out a nearly seven hundred thousand dollar bond for suits and fertilizer? Interesting.”

“And nice lunches. Don’t forget nice lunches.” Crowley tipped his glass towards Aziraphale who was narrowing his eyes at Crowley. Clearly the man was suspicious but Crowley truly didn’t have any better explanation. He wasn’t about to tell him he cashed out one of his better bonds to buy a super rare first edition of Charles Dickens’s, A Christmas Carol for Aziraphale’s bookshop collection as a gift for helping him save the world. It was four hundred and two thousand pounds but the man was worth it to Crowley.

Both of the men sat in silence for several dozen seconds because Aziraphale huffed and changed the course of the conversation.

“Well, whatever the reason your devilish instincts caused you to do it, I thank you. This lunch is turning out to be rather nice. Nice food, nice atmosphere, nice company, it’s all rather cozy.” Aziraphale may have been giving up the hunt for now but he would be back on it soon enough. Still, he was smiling and happy and that was good enough for Crowley.

“Anytime, Angel. So, how were the scallops?”

“Absolutely marvelous. I can’t wait to try the lamb. I’ve never had it before here. I hope it tastes as good as Ledbury’s.”

“They do have good lamb. Takes a miracle to get a reservation, though.” Crowley pointedly look up over his glass to see Aziraphale crack a sly smirk.

“One might say that, yes.” Aziraphale slowly replied. A small breeze blew through, ever so slightly folding the flowers on the terrace in its wake. Aziraphale’s hanging semi curls blew with it, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of cold air on his face after sitting in the sun. “Absolutely beautiful weather.”

Crowley nearly had a moment at the sight of it. His Angel’s face in pure happiness and bliss, living in the moment with a wide smile on his face. During that moment, it felt like they were the only two in the entire world and Crowley enjoyed every nano second of it.

“Your entrees, sirs.” The waitress was back with their main courses. Crowley with his tournedos of beef and Aziraphale with his cutlet of lamb. Crowley was voilently shocked out of his moment. He had forgotten for a second that other people existed. Even his demonic senses turned off. Something was definitely wrong with him.

“Absolutely wonderful, thank you dear.” Aziraphale always made a point to compliment his servers. He could feel the stress and angst they were under most days to keep up a cheery attitude while being on their feet in a physically demanding job for eight to ten hours a day. Crowley could feel it too but his job was to capitalize on their suffering, not relieve it.

“Anytime, I’ll be back soon to check on things. Can I get you gentlemen another bottle while I’m here?” Crowley swished his bottle back and forth, looking at the half-full liquid inside swirl around. Aziraphale was still on his first glass so he was definitely still good. It would look suspicious to order another bottle so soon. People would start to question why he wasn’t drunk after drinking a bottle and a half (which was his normal alcohol intake during a meal).

“Nah, I think we’re good for the moment.” Crowley could always steal some of Aziraphale’s bottle. They did order the same champagne after all and Crowley was a heavy drinker by nature. Something about demons made them able to hold their alcohol quite well.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything else.” The waitress bowed and quickly paced off to check on her other guests.

“Turning down champagne? My, something has gotten into your Crowley.” Aziraphale did that thing where he pointed with his voice again.

“Last time I ordered and drank two bottles of champagne in one sitting, I had several people ask me why I wasn’t stumbling around drunk. Need to start being more inconspicuous when out in public with the humans.” Crowley practically rolled his eyes at the last part. 

He would admit he had a particular fondness for humans, something about them he found charming, especially in the way they lived their lives like they were invincible but only lived a short hundred years at the most. However, the way they also lived their lives like they were invincible from Crowley’s influence irked him down to his soul, or what was left of it. They were too good for hell, most of them radiated. That right there was why Crowley loved doing temptations so much on certain people. It was more than his job at times, it was about sending a message.

“I do vaguely remember that. I saw several people come up to you but I didn’t hear what they were saying.” Aziraphale carefully cut into his lab to see a perfect medium rare. “Marvelous sear. Would you like to try a piece?” He looked up excitedly at Crowley.

“Yeah sure, why not?” Crowley took his fork and leaned over the table, piercing the small bite Aziraphale had cut for him. Immediately, once the meat hit his tongue, a canopy of flavors exploded in his mouth. He couldn’t help but groan a little. “That, my dear Angel, is delicious.”

Aziraphale gave a small “yay” and stuck his own first piece in his mouth. The look on his face was pure bliss once the flavors hit. “This is just as good as Ledbury’s, if not better. Have to order this more often.” Crowley started on his own tournedos of beef, quickly devouring his plate as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“You always eat so fast Crowley. One of these days you must take the time and savor your dish.” Aziraphale didn’t even look up from cutting into his lamb while he chided his friend.

“That’s more of your thing, Angel. I enjoyed it, I just didn’t take ten minutes per bite.”

“Yes, well, excuse me for savoring my dish.” And now he was offended. Great, Crowley mused.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, it’s just not a demon thing. We’re expected to move quickly from one thing to the next. It’s how we work in Hell. You understand, they expect you to take your time in heaven on your miracles don’t they? Make a grand spectacle of your big ones, yeah? Just imagine the opposite for us.”

“Well, I don’t think it would hurt you to try. We do have the time now.” Aziraphale pushed another piece of his lamb into his mouth and slowly chewed it, absorbing all the flavors. Crowley couldn’t imagine eating like that, taking all that time for a fleeting moment of flavor. Still, maybe his Angel had a point. He did have the time now with the Apocalypse off their shoulders. It was something to think about at least.

The rest of the meal was spent with idle chit chat and mostly silent. Both men were content with the silence if they were honest. Aziraphale actually preferred it while he was eating so he could have the mental capacity to savor his meal. Crowley enjoyed the silence the same way except his was to suck down a bottle of champagne.

By the time dessert passed, both men were stuffed to the brim. Aziraphale was already a hearty lad by the human definition but now his gut was pushing the strained buttons on his vest. Crowley was always a stick but even he had a bit of a food baby on his belly.

Crowley paid the waitress in cash with two hundred for a tip. He had to admit, it felt good to flash his cash around, especially when he could do it to impress Aziraphale who rarely dolled out his own money like Crowley was doing.

“Are you insane? Two hundred dollars for a tip?” Aziraphale was practically beside himself as they two stepped out the front door. Crowley handed his valet ticket to one of the runner kids and leaned back against the building wall, toothpick in his hands picking at his teeth. By Satan, he could go for a smoke right now but Aziraphale’s nose was too sensitive to put up with the smell of a fresh cigarette. He even went as far as miracling the smell off of his clothes when he did smoke (which was rarer these days. He used to be a very heavy chain smoker in the seventies and eighties when it was ‘cooler’) because Aziraphale would complain about not being able to be within ten feet of him without gagging. As if the smell of old rotting books was any more pleasant to the nose. At least he had something in his mouth after a heavy meal, even if it was just a mint coated toothpick.

“What? She did a good job. I didn’t see a problem with it.”

“Crowley, that was a forty percent tip!” Crowley simply furrowed his brows and stared at Aziraphale who seemed to be extremely offended and confused at his friend’s behavior. He simply didn’t see the problem. He thought he was being - gag him for saying this - nice.

Crowley and Aziraphale never saw eye to eye on a lot of things. This being their nature of being an angel and a demon and all of that. Money was now an item on that list. Crowley always knew Aziraphale to be a penny pincher. He assumed it came with the task of being a business owner and refusing to miracle in money. It’s naughty, Aziraphale says. It’s a perk of the demonic package, Crowley says. However, getting mad for making some poor waitress’s night was something that blew Crowley’s mind. He would have thought Aziraphale would have been, he didn’t know, proud of him?

“She’s did a good job, Aziraphale. I probably just made the girl’s entire week. You should be happy. To her, I was a miracle.” Crowley waved his toothpick in the air for flourish. It sounded a lot stupider when he said it out loud, he thought.

“Yes, well, I guess I’m just not used to tipping that much. It is your money. You’re free to spend it how you wish.” Aziraphale huffed. He would never admit this to Crowley but he felt a little guilty, especially after Crowley did prove that he had a point. Aziraphale was just so used to being strapped for cash, as they say, when he first opened his bookshop that he never really grew out of the “have to save every dollar” type of behavior. He really should be more generous, he thought to himself.

“Thank you. Now, ready to hit the road?” Crowley threw his toothpick in the trash as his Bentley was pulled up to the circle driveway.

“I suppose. Where are we going? Back to the shop?” Aziraphale sat himself in the passenger’s seat of the Bentley.

“I thought I might take a bit of your advice, take a walk at St. James. Enjoy the day, that sort of thing. Care to join me?” Crowley had practically thrown himself into his seat and looked over at Aziraphale over the top of his glasses during his last question.

“A walk would be nice. I will admit that I ate a little too much so some walking would probably do me some good.” A small blush came over Aziraphale’s face as he took in Crowley’s offer. Crowley only grinned in response and threw his car into gear, pulling out dangerously into London traffic back to Soho. “Though I would like it if we got there in one piece.” Aziraphale grabbed for the panic handle and refused to let go as Crowley weaved in and out of traffic at breakneck speed.

“You worry too much, Angel. Have I ever had an accident with you in the car or ever?”

“Well, yes. There was that one time you ran over Anathema.”

“She was wearing black, at night I might add, riding a bike in the middle of the road! Of course I didn’t see her!” He had to bring up the one time in nearly a hundred and thirty years of driving he had an accident. He was never going to live that down, Crowley just knew it.

“Pedestrians still have the right away, even if they make bad decisions in being visible.” Aziraphale was practically tutting him with the tone of his voice. Crowley simply rolled his eyes and decided to approach the question a different way.

“Okay, let me rephrase: have I ever had an accident in London?”

“Not to my knowledge, at least.”

“Thank you. I’m not that bad of a driver. I just happen to go fast.” Again, the phrase “You go too fast for me Crowley” entered his mind and another wave of guilt washed over him. “It’s a demon thing” he finished quietly.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale could sense the change of tone and seemed concerned.

“I’m fine.” Crowley picked himself up and forced his voice to sound normal as he continued to drive the both of them into Soho. Crowley parked in front of the bookshop, snagging the last open spot. Crowds of people continued to line the sidewalks, seemingly paying no attention to the car that just pulled into a parking spot at a record 60 miles an hour, and that was with Crowley slowing down.

The former serpent hauled himself out of his Bentley with all of the grace one could muster while Aziraphale took his time, even taking a moment to smooth out the wrinkles of his vest and jacket. 

“Ready, Angel?” Crowley shut his door with a loud thump and didn’t even look back before he started the half hour walk to the park.

“After you, I suppose.” Aziraphale huffed while shuffling off after his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you all so much for reading this!
> 
> Despite spending nearly ten years of my life driving away at writing fanfiction, this is the first one I've ever had the courage to post. Thanks the supportive nature of the Good Omens community and the cheering of my friends, I am proud to present my first multi-chapter fic!
> 
> As they say, Rome wasn't built in a day and neither is my confidence to start sharing my works with the world. I hope to see your comments and kudos as they will serve as inspiration for myself to continue working on these stories between assignments at university!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. In Which Nosy Immortals Enjoy Some Ice Cream and Discuss the Future

While the day itself was rather lovely, a dreaded heat could be felt creeping into the atmosphere. Still, neither Crowley or Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind of the moment, too wrapped up in each other’s company to notice the encroaching humidity. The duo had just wrapped up a wonderful lunch on the terrace at the Ritz back in London and were heading off to St. James Park by the way of Soho.

Crowley had just parked his Bentley in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop and was leading the charge as it were to the half hour walk to the park. Well, half hour for most people, Aziraphale included. Crowley power-walked everywhere he went, shaving precious minutes off of any travel time by foot. Aziraphale noticed this and was quick to complain.

“Sorry, Angel. Used to power-walking everywhere. Place to go, people to tempt, that sort of thing.” Crowley seemed to slow down once he heard Aziraphale’s comment.

“I understand, I suppose. Habits can be hard to break. Especially six thousand year old ones.” Both of them walked in silence on the way to the park. The sun was partially clouded over, a nice warm breeze was blowing through the area, and it was a pleasantly nice spring day overall. Several minutes passed with neither of them saying anything. 

“I must admit that it’s nice to get out of the bookshop every now and then. Especially on a pleasant day like today.” Aziraphale finally broke the silence between the two of them as they passed the entrance to the park. Crowley had gotten so invested in watching the people around them that he had hardly noticed that they weren’t speaking to each other. Being able to feel the sin around people could be very distracting at times.

“Oh, yeah. I figured a walk would do us both some good after such a heavy meal. Plus it’s nice outside for once instead of being unbearably humid.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale agreed with him. “So, you said you’re trying to slow things down? In what way?” _Nosy bastard_, Crowley thought to himself.

“Just in general, I guess. I feel like things have been moving so fast lately. What with the apocalypse and all. Head office is finally giving me some space so I figure I should probably capitalize on it, you know? Enjoy it while I have it. Maybe take some more time for my plants.”

“Don’t you yell obscenities at your plants”?

“They need to know their place and grow properly or else face the consequences.”

“I see.” In truth, Aziraphale did not see but he would admit that Crowley did have some of the best house plants in London so maybe he was onto something. Aziraphale couldn’t imagine being that mean to something as a way of helping it. He couldn’t really imagine being that mean at all. Well, he guessed he was that mean to Crowley a few times by threatening to never speak to him again but he felt at the time that it was the right thing to do. Both of them were in immortal danger of permanent discorperation! Didn’t keep him from feeling any less guilty about it though.

“How do you plan on spending your free time?” Crowley slowed his pace and locked eyes with Aziraphale through his Valentino’s. Aziraphale looked away almost immediately lest he wanted his internal blush to creep across his face. Something about the soft way Crowley looked at him lately made his heart skip.

“Well, I’ll obviously be spending more time in the bookstore. Maybe try and extend my hours a little. I was relying on Head Office to help pay the bills before but now it looks like I may have to start selling more of my copies to keep the doors open. Such a shame, really. I really hate selling my books.”

“You going to start selling your rare copies with your regular ones?” Crowley gently grabbed Aziraphale’s arm and started steering them both towards an ice cream cart. It was such a ballsy move but Crowley couldn’t think of a better way to move to clueless man. Even thinking about touching Aziraphale sent his heart fluttering much less actually doing so.

“Oh heavens, no! Just my regular copies. My rare copies are my own. I’d never sell those. Just like my rare copies of the bible. Nobody gets to touch those. Even more especially are my religious texts section as a whole. That reminds me, regarding my prophies section -” Aziraphale continued to ramble as Crowley ordered them both an ice cream; a scoop of vanilla with a garnish of chocolate of Aziraphale and a cherry popsicle of himself, just like when they pulled the old body swap trick for their trails. Crowley surely wasn’t about to interrupt Aziraphale’s rambling to ask him what else he could have wanted. He was trying to be - and Satan forgive him for this - nice.

Crowley shuffled the ice cream to one hand, paid the seller with a crisp ten, told him to keep the change, and shuffled Aziraphale off, who was still talking by the way, to the side by grabbing his hand and leading him to a park bench. Crowley figured if he was going to be ballsy, he might as well go all the way and hold hands with even, no matter how temporary.

“Crowley, your hands are freezing!” Before Crowley could even get both of them to the bench, Aziraphale took both of his hands and wrapped them around Crowley’s own. Crowley’s heart about jumped out of his chest. Aziraphale’s hands were so warm and soft, years of care taken for them, caring for books and being nourished with hand lotion.

“That’s probably because I just bought us ice cream, Angel. Seemed like a good way to stay cool with the sun coming out from behind the clouds.” Crowley’s voice was just barely strained, slightly embarrassed and giddy about the hand holding between the two. It also took being blatantly obvious to get Aziprahale to look up from where he was staring daggers at Crowley’s hands for being cold.

“Oh, yes, well, I guess that would do it.” A small blush crept across Aziraphale’s face as he took the offered ice cream cone from Crowley. Crowley only gave him his own soft smile and blush before turning his attention back to the crowds of people around them. Series of strong energies were emanating from a few select couples. Everything was not good in relationship town, at least not for them. It made him respect the softness radiating from Aziraphale even more.

“Are you feeling something, Crowley?” Aziraphale looked up from his ice cream, concern on his face.

“Yeah, I’m feeling some strong vibes from a few couples. I don’t think they’re going to be couples much longer. Lot of hate between them.” Crowley pointed to two sets of couples, one on a bench by the lake and another by the end of the walking trail. Both were having heated discussions and were waving their arms around like they were yelling.

“Oh dear, should we intervene?”

“I wouldn’t. From what I’m feeling, there isn’t much to salvage. This has been brewing for awhile.” Crowley licked his popsicle and continued to walk down the path. He made it a few feet before checking for Aziraphale and found him still planted by the bench he led them too. “C’mon, Angel. We’re not going to walk lunch off standing around.” Aziraphale gave him a sad look before slowly walking towards him.

“I feel like we should do something for them, Crowley.”

“Yeah? Like what? We can’t miracle away their problems. Human relationships are too complicated for that.”

“Can you at least tell what they’re fighting about?” Aziraphale looked up at him with his “doe eyes” as Crowley called him. Satan, he was weak for that.

“Wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy?” Crowley really didn’t want to go digging into people’s emotions and memories like that. 

“But maybe we can help them! I’m a being of love, maybe I can salvage some of their -”

“Fine, fine. Let’s see.” Crowley sighed before digging deep in his powers, taking in every negative aspect from the couples as he could while filtering out everyone else around him: anger, betrayal, frustration, rage, hurt, heartbreak, everything came flooding into them. He noticed a lack of lust between both couples along with a lack of attraction in general. The betrayal came on strong for the couple by the walking trail. He caught mental images of a flight home and a bra being found in their bed. So, he cheated while she was on a trip.

Heartbreak came on strong for the couple on the park bench by the lake. He tried digging further and caught mental images of joyous times spent together being drowned in sadness. Seemed like a standard break-up to Crowley. He’d seen it once, he’d seen it a thousand times. Another image came through his sixth sense, a picture of two girls together but this one came with rage. Was he breaking up with her for her friend? That would certainly be a more spicy story.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale touched Crowley’s arm and gave it a light shake. Crowley came back to reality with a jolt, nearly dropping his popsicle. “Sorry, you really zoned out there for a minute. I thought I had lost you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just really had to stretch myself to get the full picture. So the couple by the end of the walking trail, see them? Apparently she had to go on a trip and he cheated on her. She found a bra that wasn’t hers under the bed when she got back. The couple by the lake? Apparently he’s breaking up with her for her friend. See, Angel? Nothing to salvage.”

“I see. Well, it was worth checking.” Aziraphale seemed downcast over the whole thing. Crowley now felt bad for even bringing it up. Seemed like an interesting conversation piece at the time. Now all he could do was awkwardly lick his ice cream and hope to quickly find a better topic to lighten things up. “I always feel so bad for couples like that. The world is supposed to be full of love and happiness but it seems not everyone has the good fortune of finding it.”

“We’re one of those people, aren’t we? Spreading happiness and all that. We averted the end of the world for them, at least. Seems like something to be happy about.” Well, at least Crowley could say he tried.

“That is one way of looking at it, I suppose” Aziraphale sighed. He still sounded sad.

“Things could be worse.” Crowley added.

“True, I just still feel bad for them.”

“They’re tough. They’ll get over and find someone even better. Trust me Angel, they’ll get over it. I can feel it.” Crowley wrapped his napkin around the bottom of his popsicle, trying to catch the drippings before it got on his jacket.

“You think so?” Aziraphale looked up at him with hope in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it.” It may have sounded like Crowley was brushing him off but for the sake of his Angel, he would certainly believe it.

“Oh, I’m glad.” Aziraphale gave him a soft smile and turned back to his ice cream. Aziraphale was always so sensitive. Crowley supposed it was the nature of being an angel, being able to tap into everyone’s positive emotions must result in some sort of permanent high, Crowley figured. If you suddenly found yourself missing happiness after years of being used to it, it had to be a hard crash. Crowley used to be the same way, being able to feel all of that but he fell before humans even populated the Earth so he never got to experience it in the same way Aziraphale did. It’s not like Crowley ever got a break from the negative in the world; evil was a permanent feature of humanity.

“So tell me Angel,” Crowley waved his popsicle at his friend.

“Hm?” Aziraphale stopped licking his ice cream and looked up at Crowley.

“What do you think is going to happen? To us, I mean. Head Office is giving us space now. We passed our “trials”, if you wanna call them that. So, what happens next?” With all the finesse of asking someone what they had for dinner, Crowley popped the question like their respective Head Office didn’t just try and kill them two weeks ago.

“Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question!” Aziraphale exclaimed as though Crowley had offended him.

“I figured it was one worth asking. Get your take on it.” Crowley replied nonchalantly.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. One would figure they would see our alliance and leave us alone. Perhaps see Earth as a non-participant in their little war. The plan may be ineffable but if we have the power to avert Armageddon then perhaps they’ll rethink the way they treat us. Perhaps they’ll even forget the whole thing ever happened since we passed our trials. It’s hard to say, really. I haven’t been in contact since the whole thing happened. Have you?”

“Can’t say I have. Going to be honest, trying to avoid it. I may send in a paper report in a few weeks and see what happens. Other than that, just taking a hands off approach, really.”

“I hope they end up just forgetting the whole thing ever happened. I saw the fear in their eyes when I took that holy water bath for you. It’s like they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Like you were above them in some way.” Aziraphale had a bit of an awestruck tone to his voice as he recounted the events of his trip to Hell. He had to admit, he did feel pretty powerful after he stood up from that bathtub and demanded a miracled towel. Crowley barked a laugh in response and took a bite out of his softening popsicle.

“I wish I could have seen their faces. Beelzebub is not one to rattle easily. To see her shocked must have been a magnificent image to behold.”

“The point is, Crowley, we have no idea what our Head Offices are going to do. I guess we should enjoy the time we have while we still have it. A walk in the park is a good start, I think. You’re right, we should just enjoy what we have while we have it.” Crowley whirled on Aziraphale after the words “you’re right” left his mouth. Aziraphale, oblivious, continued to eat his melting ice cream as if we hadn’t just handed Crowley’s dream words on a silver platter to him. He was right? That never happens. Normally he gets some snarky comeback like, “do you have one single better idea?” That one stuck with him too. Not as bad as “you go too fast for me, Crowley” but it was a top contender. 

“Glad to hear it, Angel. Now, what do you say we finish these ice creams and the trail and get you back to your bookshop so you can open for the rest of the day?"

“I say that sounds marvelous. I do need to start staying open consistent hours now though. That one is going to be a little tough.”

“I’ll help you if that’s what you need. Or we’ll get your an intern from one of the local colleges. I think City University has a Library Science degree. I’m sure one of them would love to intern in an esoteric bookstore.”

“I’m not entirely sure I feel comfortable having some random student handling my collection of rare first editions.” Aziraphale threw what he had left of his ice cream in a passing garbage can and wiped his hands on what little clean there was left on his napkin. Most of it had been used to catch drips and the now increasing heat and humidity had melted most of the rest before he had gotten to it.

“No one says they have to touch the important stuff but they can restock the shelves and work on getting you on the internet and stuff. Social media is bonkers these days, you need to be on it if you’re going to start running your bookshop like a legitimate business.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible, Crowley. I’ve spent so many years running off customers with miracles that it’s going to take a lot to bring people back. It’s going to take more than Twitter and Instagram I think.” Aziraphale seemed dejected over the idea. He’s spent the past sixty years or so doing things like being rude to customers, flickering the lights, creating bad smells, that it all seemed like the bookstore was the one place in Soho nobody wanted to be at. When Head Office was helping him miracle away his bills and responsibilities, that was fine. But now that he was on his own, it seemed like a much more insurmountable task than he originally envisioned to get things back in the public’s good graces.

“Wait, how do you know about Instagram?” Now it was Crowley’s turn to be confused. Much like he invented the selfie, Crowley was also the driving force behind Instagram. Mostly as a place to post his selfies. Now it was a food blogger’s dream. Not quite what he desired, he was going more for a sin of vanity thing when he approached the creator of the app but people were still being vain when they were posting their expensive meals he supposed. Head Office didn’t think it was nearly as cool as he did. They really needed to get with the times.

“I’m not a complete dinosaur, Crowley. I do read the newspaper still and keep up with what’s going on. My refusal to get a smart phone isn’t completely holding me back.” Aziraphale pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the back of his neck. The humidity and heat was coming in full force as storms started to gather on the horizon.

“You still need one. I, for one, think you would love Instagram. It’s a foodie’s dream app.” Crowley bit the last of his melting popsicle and threw the stick in a trash can as he passed it, napkin and all.

“Maybe one day, but not today. They do still sell prepaid flip phones, you know.” Aziraphale seemed pleased with himself for that fun fact.

“You know Angel, one of these days I’m going to bring you into the twenty-first century and you’re going to like it. Imagine how many doors are going to open up for you.” Crowley waved his hands in front of his face to make his point. Aziraphale didn’t really see the point he was trying to make but Crowley seemed upbeat about it so he supposed it wasn’t all bad.

“Yes, well, just keep your demonic Kindles and Nooks away from me.” Maybe Aziraphale wasn’t as far behind the times as he thought, Crowley thought. “Old fashioned books only for me, please.”

“Will admit, humans beat me to that. Putting adverts in them was a stroke of genius.”

“They put advertisements in them too?!” Aziraphale practically had a stroke on the spot at the news of that. Okay, so maybe he was still a little behind the times.

“Years ago, Angel. C’mon then, keep up.” The keep up was meant in a physical and metaphorical sense. Crowley’s long legs propelled him two steps for Aziraphale’s every one and he kept losing the Angel every few yards.

“I’m moving as fast as I can. You’re just all legs, Crowley.” Aziraphale shuffled his way to besides the demon and started power walking just to keep up. “I understand you’re trying to beat the storms but they’re hours away. We have the time to get back to the shop. It’s just down a few blocks.”

Crowley sighed and slowed down his pace. He kept forgetting he had three inches on Aziraphale in his legs alone. It was also partly to habit. When you’ve hardly had a moment to yourself because you’re expected to be creating havoc in the world every second of every day, walking like a normal person takes concentrated effort. Places to go, people to tempt and torment, that sort of stuff.

“Sorry Angel, just a habit. Not used to having time to slow down and actually walk at a leisurely pace.” Crowley was having to physically concentrate on not speeding away like the long-legged demon he was.

“I understand. Hell has put you through your paces these last 6,000 years. However, that’s not so much the case anymore. We’re both going to have to make adjustments to adapt to human life better now that we don’t have our superiors breathing down our necks about the apocalypse.” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and gave him a soft smile, “We’re going to have to become independent of our Head Offices. An almost exciting prospect, don’t you agree? Maybe even work together?” The last part came out so quiet Crowley nearly didn’t catch it.

“I think I could manage working with you, Angel.” Crowley gave one of his trademark smirks despite the heart in his chest taking a leap off of a cliff.

“Oh! Oh, good. I think we make a rather good team.” Aziraphale clasped his hands together and rang them together slightly. Clearly he had been building that sudo-question up for awhile. 

“I think you’re right, we do. Now what do you say we get back to the shop and open back up for dinner? Maybe catch a few stray wanderers trying to figure out where the fire damage went.”

“That is what’s been bringing most of them in the past few weeks.” Aziraphale sighed. “I’m just not sure what to do to get them back in as regulars.”

“Standard operating hours for one. Stay open in the evenings for people getting off work. Get on the blasted internet and start marketing yourself.” Crowley rattled off several items before pausing, “What about a website where people could check your stock and stuff? Maybe even let people rent your books like a library.”

Aziraphale stuttered for a moment is shock before finally forcing himself to stop and take a deep breath, “I’m not sure I could do that. Let people RENT my books? Like just let them have them and hope they bring them back? Crowley, I’m not sure I have the stomach for that! The risk! They could tear pages, they could DRAW in them, SPILL something in them, just think abou-”

“All right, all right. Calm down, it was just a suggestion. You don’t have to do it. I was just thinking it might let people have a chance to read them and come back for more. No one’s going to ruin your books, Angel.” Crowley had to place his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders to focus him from losing his shit even more than he already was. Aziraphale automatically grabbed his wrists and formed a death grip, clearly lost in a panic of thinking about his books being anything less than pristine. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Aziraphale took several deep breaths and gave Crowley’s wrist a reassuring squeeze that he was going to be okay. Clearly though, it was a bad suggestion. Selling his books was bad enough but putting them on loan? Clearly it was too much to think about. Aziraphale was clearly not cut out to be a librarian.

“I’m okay I just,” he paused and took a breath, “Just lost my cool for a minute there. I’m going to be fine.”

“C’mon Aziraphale, let’s get you back before you head explodes. Nearly thought it was going to for a minute.” Crowley practically muttered the last part under his breath.

“I heard that.” Aziraphale snapped back.

“You were meant to!” Crowley taunted back as he started towards the crosswalk.

“Oh, get back here!” Aziraphale rapidly shuffled off behind Crowley, trying but not really trying to keep up with the demon’s freakishly long pace. Aziraphale did catch up to him at the crosswalk, both of them waiting for the walk sign to turn green.

“You were saying?” Crowley just gave him a wide smirk and leaned against the walk sign post.

“What I was saying was -” Aziraphale panted a couple of times, not used to having to run, well, anywhere really. “My head was NOT going to explode. I was just fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure you were, Angel.” Crowley dug in his pocket and produced another minty fresh toothpick. God, he still wanted that cigarette from earlier. At least he had something to chew on, even if it was nasty tasting.

“Yes, well, whatever you choose to believe, I know that I was holding together just fine.” Aziraphale smoothed his coat again and made a point of standing prim and proper at the streetlight in exception of Crowley’s slouching against the post.

“Yeah, okay.” Crowley just smirked at him and continued chewing on his toothpick. “So, what I’m hearing is no loans from the shop.”

“No loans,” Aziraphale shuddered at the thought, “Ever.”

“Alright, we’ll keep thinking of ideas to get your shop back on track. We have all the time in the world right now.”

“I suppose we do.” Aziraphale smiled over at Crowley, who was for once, smiling back at him instead of sporting his trademark smirk.

The walk sign came on with the green man flashing at them. Traffic anywhere near St. James park was a nightmare. Located in the heart of London, nearly everyone had to drive around the fifty-seven acre park to get where they needed to be, even to Soho.

“I still say you need an intern. Someone to do the small stuff while you focus on the big stuff like marketing and advertisements. Or maybe even have the intern do that. Kids these days are smart with technology.”

“The small stuff is why I opened a bookshop in the first place. I love stocking my books and dusting the spines everyday. It makes me happy.” Crowley wasn’t about to tell him that he obviously needed the intern to help him dust some more because the place was one giant dust bunny on everything but the shelves themselves.

“Well, we have some time to think about it. The building is paid for and we have some money between the two of us to keep the lights on for a few more months.” The two finished crossing the street as the green man clicked off and London traffic put the pedal to the metal to cross the intersection.

“Such aggressive drivers. They really do need to be more careful. They’re going to hit someone one of these days.” Aziraphale tutted.

“Was that a crack at me?” Crowley chewed the last of his toothpick to smithereens and dumped it in the nearest trash can.

“Only if you want it to be.” Aziraphale looked up and smirked at Crowley with a twinkle in his eye.

“Careful Angel, you’re picking up my bad mannerisms.” Something about that smirk made Crowley’s entire body feel euphoric. Maybe his Angel wasn’t such a stick in the mud after all.

“Oh nonsense. Your mannerisms aren’t all THAT bad. Though your sarcasm is quite thick.” Now Crowley couldn’t argue with that one. He was a sarcastic little shit on his best days and a downright terror on his worst.

“Point taken but I’m still a delight to be around, don’t you think?” Crowley bent over to mumble into Aziraphale’s ear. Now he was just being a tease. Not that Aziraphale seemed to mind.

“One might agree with that, yes.” Another smirk from his Angel; Crowley was in heaven.

“C’mon, Angel. Back to the matter at hand, tell me your thoughts about revamping your bookstop.” While Crowley was a tease, he was more of a fan of the chase. He loved the dance his angel and himself did. Back and forth, always flirting, never anything committed but always there for each other. It was like a mental waltz the two did, complete with Aziraphale stepping on his toes and getting too close sometimes.

Maybe it was the fact that he felt like Aziraphale wanted something more but could never work up the courage to say anything. Crowley was too much of a chickenshit to call him on it though. He knew Aziraphale kept his distance for a reason, the reason being their Head Offices but he never truly resented him for it. It was for both of their safeties. It just took him the entirety of the seventies and a “You go too fast for me” for the message to sink in.

He liked to think Aziraphale wanted him and much as he wanted Aziraphale. He liked to think that, anyway. He had no proof. He only had his emotional baggage and a few flirting remarks from the Angel to make his stance.

“Well, I think it needs to be done. I’m just not sure I have the stomach to do it. It’s a big change, Crowley! I’ve been running my bookshop like I have for the past several hundred years and it’s worked fine so far. Well, as long as Head Office was paying my bills anyway.” The last part came out a soft mumble. It was like Aziraphale didn’t want to admit that perhaps his relationship with his Head Office was over. Or at least on the rocks.

“Exactly, as long as Head Office was paying your bills. They’re not anymore. We need to get ahead of the curve. Let’s start somewhere small, yeah? Maybe get a Twitter and an “Under New Management” sign. Let them think the old bugger who ran people off is gone.”

“But I’m not gone.” Aziraphale, you poor sweet child, Crowley thought. It almost caused him to facepalm.

“No, but we let them think you are. You’re the new guy who wants to sell books, right?”

“But I’m the same guy,” Now Aziraphale was really getting confused.

“C’mon, Angel.” Crowley got aggressive. He had such a short temper. It must run in the demon bloodline because it seemed no matter what demon you talked to, none of them had much patience for dense or stupid assertions. “We’re going to pretend you’re a new owner. We’re going to make the humans think that the old guy who ran people off is gone and that a new owner has taken over. Get it?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale stared at his feet with a confused look on his face for a few moments. “Oh!” His face lit up as soon as the realization set in, “I get it now!”

“There you go. You finally got there.” Crowley patted him on his back and continued walking down the road. They still had a long way to Soho.

“So you think this sign will help bring in people? Make them think a new person has taken over and will make them feel more welcome?” Aziraphale rushed back over to Crowley, shuffling his way through the crowd. Crowley, however, had no problem using his demonic aura to part the seas, as it were.

“Can’t hurt. How do you feel about expanding your collection? Like maybe focus on something other than rare bibles and prophecy books.” Aziraphale’s face turned sour almost immediately at the idea.

“I think my collection is quite nice. Full of rare first editions and things that you can’t find in other places.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad -” Crowley was immediately on the defensive. He knew Aziraphale had a temper when it came to his bookshop by trying to find the trigger for one of his raging topics was like playing a very rigged game of whack a mole. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when.

“Then what are you saying, Crowley?”

“I’m just saying maybe some John Clancy or Steven King might bring in the regular folk who aren’t looking to add to expensive collections.” Probably not the wisest thing to say to an angry bookkeeper but Crowley was nothing if not ballsy, “It’s not a bad thing, Angel. Just something different. Different strokes, different folks and all that.”

Aziraphale, however, was still simmering at the idea of his book collection being looked down upon. It’s not that Crowley was wrong, necessarily. If he wanted a more general audience, he was going to have to move to a general collection but he really liked what he had going already. Who didn’t love a good book on prophecy and what the future held? Humans were into that, right?

“It’s just an idea. Not saying you have to do it. Like everything we’ve been talking about, it’s just something to think about.” Crowley spoke softly and with reverence. It was hard, like really hard, to be mad at Crowley when he was respectful like this.

“I know. I just -” Aziraphale sighed and rubbed his face. “It’s just a lot to take in at once. So many changes need to be made and I really don’t want to have to make them. I like what I have right now.”

“I know, Angel. I know. But it’ll be fine in the end. We’ll figure it out.” Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. For a demon, Crowley did have his soft moments and Aziraphale lived for them. The way they lightly touched each other, the way Crowley would softly speak to him when he was upset, the way he would look at him like he truly cared for Aziraphale. All of those little things made Aziraphale’s entire week at times.

“I hope you’re right.” Aziraphale sighed and fell in line with Crowley’s deliberately slowed pace. Walking beside him also helped them walk down the sidewalk with Crowley’s demonic aura parting the way for them. “I just don’t want to make all of these changes and lose the shop anyway. It’s also home for me, Crowley. My apartment is attached to the shop! I lose the shop, I lose my home!”

“I understand. You’re not going to lose the shop.” Crowley continued to try and placate the frazzled angel. A hand on the shoulder, a cooing tone to his voice, he wasn’t sure how much more he could offer to Aziraphale besides just wrapping him in a blanket and setting him on his rattan couch back at the bookshop. They called it burrito-ing? Seemed like a good idea anyway. “We’ll do what we can which is take it one step at a time. We’ve pulled out of worse situations together.”

“I hope you’re right.” Aziraphale made no move to remove Crowley’s hand from his shoulder as he wrung his hands together. “It all just seems very overwhelming at the moment.”

“One thing at a time, Angel. One thing at a time. Let’s just focus on opening back up for the day.”

“Well, alright. I guess I can live with that.” Aziraphale was someone who spooked easy if you asked Crowley. He didn’t like big changes nor anything that disrupted his routine. He enjoyed his bookshop. He enjoyed lunch or dinner at the Ritz. He enjoyed spending his evenings on his ratty (if you asked Crowley) couch and reading a book, especially romance books if the books he found on Aziraphale’s end table were any indication. Most importantly, Aziraphale enjoyed having his hot cocoa in peace and quiet, almost like a meditative period in his day. Crowley learned this the hard way when he stumbled into the bookshop half drunk at a quarter to ten looking to pester Aziraphale but instead got an earful and nearly a lap full of cocoa on his genitals. Since then, Crowley has made sure to arrive at the bookstore sober and before closing unless calling beforehand.

Still, he respected Aziraphale’s space as much as he could. Being best friends (at least Crowley thought so) for six thousand years tended to tear down protective barriers between people. It felt like there were now even less barriers than before. It was because they were on their own side now instead of Heaven versus Hell, something Crowley felt was long overdue for his Angel to recognize. He had been in the mentality since the 1862 when he asked Aziraphale for holy water. What Crowley saw as a gesture of being willing to take down his fellow demon, Aziraphale saw as a way of suicide. Granted, there was a lot of miscommunication over the issues but still, Crowley had meant it the way he intended; it wasn’t his fault it came out wrong.

“One thing at a time, right Crowley?” Aziraphale looked up at him with a sadness in his eyes with a twinkle of hope. He knew this was hard for the Angel. Hell, it would be hard for anybody to completely revamp their life’s work, even more so for an immortal being who’s spent the past several hundred years on one project. Still, it would be for the best of both of them.

“One thing at a time.” Crowley repeated the mantra back at him, hoping to settle his nerves. It did, however, seem to spark Aziraphale’s mouth because the next words out of them didn’t stop until they both reached Soho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit, this is the chapter I'm the least happy with it. Something about it never sat right with me, I think it's Aziraphale's behavior at the notion of his books being rented but I never got feedback on that section so I went ahead and posted it as is.
> 
> Chapters one through (pretty much) four were written as a continuous one-shot and broken up post-write which is why they seem to flow together so well and the endings seem sort of choppy (if you noticed it).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!


	3. In Which Crowley helps Aziraphale Tackle Step One of Renovations and Other Gifts

The walk back to Soho was mostly filled with Aziraphale nervously rambling about all the changes he needed to make to his shop and the concerns of making them at all. It felt like to Crowley, the more Aziraphale thought about the changes the more nervous he got and the more nervous he got, the more he put it into his mind that the changes couldn’t be made without it becoming a giant catastrophe. Clearly he was going to need his hand held through every step of the process, at least metaphorically. Which, Crowley supposed he didn’t mind too much. With all he and Aziraphale had been through the last six thousand years, one bookstore renovation wasn’t going to be the worst thing they had done together.

The bookstore closed sign in the bookstore hung nonchalantly in front door as dozens of people walked past on the sidewalk, barely passing it a second glance. A couple of people hung out across the street, looking at the bookstore with a look a confusion, clearly remembering a giant fire in the same building none a fortnight ago. 

“Looks like you may have a few customers waiting on you.” Crowley leaned over and practically mumbled into Aziraphale’s ear, trying to be discreet.

“I’m sure they’re just gawkers. I’ve had quite a few of those the past few weeks.” Aziraphale blushed at Crowley’s close proximity to his face and quickly unlocked his front door, trying to put a space between the two of them. Crowley, of course, being Crowley, knew the effect it had on the poor angel but still found it fun nonetheless. He was a ballsy one, after all.

“I’ll bet you ten pounds they come in just to see the so called damage.” Crowley practically threw himself against the front desk as Aziraphale settled in at the ancient computer he used for his inventory.

“I’m not taking that bet. If they come in, they come in. I’m not terribly worried about it.” Aziraphale gave the computer a little miracle boost to get it running. The machine took forever to boot up which was not that unusual given it’s incredible age. Miracles were the only thing keeping it running for the past ten years.

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Crowley threw himself across the admittedly messy front desk and sighed.

“So, I’ve been told.” Aziraphale only smirked and logged himself in his home network, popping up a DOS system of his inventory.

“You really need a new computer. How many times a day do you have to miracle that one into shape?” Crowley had refused to move from what looked like an uncomfortable position bent over the desk. Maybe it was the snake in him that let him bend himself like a contortionist over pretty much anything and look comfortable doing it.

“It’s still holding on just fine, Crowley. Not everything has to be upgraded every year just because the shiny wore off.”

“Angel, this is way past the shiny wearing off. This thing is still running DOS, not even Windows or Apple or whatever. They have much more user friendly softwares for inventory and bookkeeping these days.”

“How would you know about all of this? Did you start a business while I wasn’t looking?” A little snippy comment from Aziraphale but Crowley wrote it off as stress from the impending disruption to his routine.

“You know I’ve been involved in multiple business ventures during my demonic raid times. Or did you forget I was one of the behind the scenes founders of both Instagram and SnapChat?”

“I knew about Instagram.” Aziraphale finally looked up from his computer with a rather bored look on his face. Granted this was also not the first time they’ve had this conversation so that was a factor in the facial response. 

“Don’t look so glum, Angel. You’ve found the perfect guy to help you whip this place into shape!” Crowley finally unhinged himself from the awkward position he was laying over the desk on and came to stand behind Aziraphale at the computer. “Step one, we replace this dinosaur and get you some good software to keep track of your inventory and customer base. Maybe even set you up with a rewards program.”

Aziraphale leaned back in his chair with a pained look on his face, closing his eyes tight. He knew these things needed to be done but if he was perfectly honest, he would have rather had his gums scraped than actually go through with any of it.

“I know Angel. It’s tough, it’s painful, but it needs to be done to make this place self sustaining.” Aziraphle opened his eyes to see Crowley looking down at him with a soft, sympathetic look on his face. “So, we’ll just start with one thing. Tomorrow, we’ll go computer shopping and get you all set up in that department. It won’t make any sense to start anything else without a home base to work off of.”

“I guess so. But I don’t want anything too fancy. I know they make computers that can run fancy games and all that but I just want something simple I can run my inventory off of.” Aziraphale was a man of simple means if Crowley ever saw one. The fanciest thing about him was the dated suit that he wore everyday. There was also the unspoken, “That I can understand and use without asking for help every five minutes.”

If Crowley knew anything about Aziraphale in the last six thousand years they were together, it was that Aziraphale really liked to be independent and do things his own way. While he would rely on other on occasion for help, he preferred to do things his own way. Something about Head Office making sure their angels were resilient enough for independent work or something. He’s pretty sure that was just an excuse to make sure Head Office didn’t know he was hanging around a demon. Which, Crowley supposed he could understand. He didn’t want his Head Office to know he was hanging around an angel so he tried to do things on his own as much as possible as well. Still, they were on their own side now and Aziraphale was going to have to learn to accept help from his new side if he wanted to make it. They were in this together now and they needed to start acting like it.

“We’ll make sure it’s a basic model. Don’t worry. Just enough to keep your business running. A home desktop should suffice.” Crowley looked down at Aziraphale gave him a little grin. He knew Aziraphale’s unspoken language and didn’t want to scare him away anymore than he already had by forcing him into something he would be too uncomfortable with. Unless it was for his own good, of course, like renovating the bookshop. In which case he would grab him by the hands and drag him into it if needed.

“Oh, very well. Shall we grab lunch while we’re out?”

“It’ll have to be before we go shopping. I’m not lugging that thing into Gauthier or anything or having my windows busted out because we left it in the back seat.”

“Fair point. We’ll make it a date! How does two sound? I’ll admit I haven’t been to Gauthier in a long time! Some French cuisine sounds lovely.” A faint pink blush overcame Crowley’s face at the word date. He didn’t know why but for some reason the thought of a legitimate date with Aziraphale sent his heart skipping. He’s been carrying an internal torch for the admittedly dense Angel since he gave his sword away in the Garden of Eden. Obviously, Aziraphale hadn’t caught on to it or things would have been a whole lot more awkward throughout the ages.

“Yeah, two sounds fine. I’m free all day tomorrow.” Crowley backed up from Aziraphale’s desk and started wandering his back stock until the flush cleared from his face.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale spun around in his chair with a look of confusion at the sudden departure of his companion.

“Just checking out what’s back here. It’s not often I get to see what you have stored away. You know, this is going to be a lot of inventory we have to go through again.”

“Yes, well, I just hope I don’t have to redo my inventory from scratch. It would take quite a long time to categorize and organize everything again.”

“I think it’ll be a pain that’ll be well worth it in the end, Angel.” Crowley started fingering through the thick-spined books sitting in an abandoned shelf, covered in a thick layer of dust. Apparently Aziraphale didn’t even try and pretend to clean back here. “What’s all back here, anyway?”

Aziraphale jumped up from his chair, his “someone’s messing with my books” senses tingling. “Oh, just some extra copies and my more rare collections. Please do be careful with them. They’re highly valuable.”

“I’m not going to mess with them, relax.” Crowley pulled his hand away like someone had chastised him. He didn’t know what he was touching was a rare first edition of something or another, he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it for touching it. Maybe he would let Aziraphale inventory back here by himself. It wasn’t worth the risk of potentially damaging something expensive. This why Crowley liked plants. They were easy to maintain (for him anyway) and they were fairly cheap to purchase, barring his few rarer plants. Still, he ended up miracling most of them in from dealers at a “fair” price.

“I’m not saying you can’t look at them, I’m just asking you to be careful with them.” Aziraphale hovered over the shelf Crowley was just at like a protective parent. “I guess I don’t dust back here at much as I thought I did. Pretty messy.” Crowley just made a face and continued walking down the rest of the bookshelf, taking in the admittedly towering bookcase as best he could.

“Well Angel, looks like we got some work ahead of us.” a small sigh escaped from Crowley’s mouth, “Looks like mostly in inventory and cleaning” he muttered afterwards.

“Yes, well, I’m trusting you to lead the charge on this. All this talk of interns and new management signs and new computers rather makes my head spin. I’m not even sure where to start.” Aziraphale wrung his hands together while locking eyes with one of his books, not even able to face Crowley who he assumed he had labeled as the face of change in his shop. Crowley just hoped this didn’t damage their relationship too much. Even if they couldn’t be more than friends, which broke Crowley’s little black heart, he still didn’t want to lose the Angel completely.

“We start small. We buy a new computer and after that, we pick one task and work on it. Before you know it, this place will be crawling with people. Trust me Angel, we got this in the bag.” Crowley forced a smile on his face and brushed his hand against Aziraphale’s shoulder as he walked past him.

“I’m trusting you on this, Crowley.” The unspoken “so don’t disappoint me” lingered between the two of them.

“You got nothing to worry about. You’ll see. One thing at a time.” Crowley brushed past the front desk and headed towards the front door. “I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll see you tomorrow at two?” Crowley looked over his Valentinos and locked eyes with Aziraphale, seeking some sort of unspoken permission to visit him tomorrow. With as easy as Aziraphale spooked, Crowley was always sure to approach slowly and with caution.

“Yes, well, I mean, if you still want to tomorrow. I’m not wanting to force anything or make you take your time to help me but it would - um - be awfully appreciated is what I’m trying to say.” Aziraphale stuttered over his words. Whether from the worry of all the change about to take place or the fact that Crowley was looking him in the eye, no one could ever know.

“Great! I’ll swing by about a quarter ‘till and we’ll grab lunch at Gauthier if you’re still in the mood for it. Ciao!” With that, Crowley swung out the front door and hustled his way back to his Bentley. He wasn’t lying. He did have a few errands to run, both demonic in nature and not. He may not be speaking to his Head Office at the moment but that didn’t mean he was going to slack on the job either. Do a bit of light shopping and wreak some havoc along the way. A typical day in the life for Crowley.

Aziraphale let himself fall into his office chair behind the desk. The chair was nearly as old as the computer and light plumes of dust emanated from the cracked tan leather. With it’s unwieldy high arms and unsupportive backing and long leg base, it was amazing Aziraphale kept it as long as he had. He would admit that he hated the thing but it was a gift from Angel Sandalphon when he first visited and he intended to keep it, even as a memory. His first attempt at a human gift. “It looked stylish!” he said when he gave it to Aziraphale. It was the thought that counted he supposed. Nearly ninety years the chair had supported him while doing his accounts but perhaps it was time for the thing to go into the backroom as decoration.

With a heavy sigh, Aziraphale closed down the window on the computer. He wasn’t sure why he opened it in the first place, he didn’t do inventory or his accounts until Sunday. Probably just something to keep his mind off of Crowley’s planned changes for the shop. He ran his hands through his hair and huffed. He didn’t know why this was stressing him out so much but it was. His stomach was in knots, his knees didn’t want to hold him, and the thought of reading turned him off with his mind racing. Staring blankly at his computer, Aziraphale continued to let him mind wander until the bell above the door rang, signaling a customer. Forcing himself to perk up, Aziraphale banished all of the negative thoughts from his head and entered his customer service mode. Big changes may be coming to the shop but they weren’t here today. Plus, it was only two pm, plenty of time left in the day to make some sales.

Crowley sped his way down the local streets of Soho, looking for a local gift shop. Crowley may have already bought the prized first edition of A Christmas Carol for Aziraphale but he had nothing to wrap it in or put it in or whatever people did with gifts. Crowley was a self-admitted bad gift giver. He had no practice with it, really. As a demon, gifts were never exchanged in hell unless you counted the holy water bath as a gift. Crowley sure didn’t. Other than that, Aziraphale never really gave gifts either. He found the practice amusing but never found the chance to try it himself. Unless of course you counted the thermos of holy water he gave Crowley, which Crowley did count. But it still wasn’t wrapped or anything. From what he had seen on the television about human customs, gifts were traditionally hidden in some sort of bag or wrapping paper with a bow on it. So maybe the thermos wasn’t a gift? Or just a badly given gift? Eh, Crowley didn’t spend too much time dwelling on it.

Swinging down the streets of outer Soho, Crowley’s phone GPS told him he had arrived at one of the top rated local gift shops in the area. Miracling himself a nearby parking spot across the street, Crowley practically rolled out of his Bentley with the grace of a snake, which he found highly amusing. Crossing London traffic, he entered the small hole in the wall business. Immediately, the smell of incense and wax diffusers hit his nose and colorful banners of London trinkets assaulted his eyes. Maybe he confused “gift shop” with something else because this certainly wasn’t what Crowley was looking for. 

“Hello sir! How can I help you?” A young blonde girl practically bounced up to him. She barely looked a day over eighteen. Or maybe twenty-five. Crowley started getting bad with ages about two thousand years ago. Humans just aged so damn fast!

“Uh yeah, not sure I have the right place. This is supposed to be a gift shop? Like a place for you to get gifts and stuff for friends?” Crowley took another look around the room. There was so much Big Ben merchandise laying around Crowley was sure he never wanted to see the thing again.

“Well, we are a gift shop but we’re also a bookstore that deals in rare old copies. You just happen to be in our ‘tourist area’. A lot of people visit Soho for a slower” she laughed, “experience. So we keep our front area stocked with tourist memorabilia and stuff they can send back home for memories. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the back and show you the ‘good stuff’.”

“Lead the way.” Crowley had no idea what she meant by ‘the good stuff’ but it had to be better than tourist hell. Not to mention the actual tourists in the room. The stuff was bad enough but rude tourists made Crowley want to burn the building down with him inside of it just out of spite.

The hostess led Crowley through the room and through an open door leading to a bookshop that rivaled the size of Aziraphale’s. To be fair, it was a nice bookshop as well. Very well cleaned, it smelt like old book pages rather than mold, and the lighting was perfect for customers who wanted to sit on the many chairs in the room and read.

“Nice place you got here.” Crowley couldn’t help but compliment the place. It was everything he wanted Aziraphale’s to be.

“Thank you! We are one of the most popular bookstores in Soho right now! Not only for our general collection but we also frequently host large book auctions for rare copies! Now, what exactly are you looking for?”

“Uh yeah, I bought a rare copy of A Christmas Carol for a friend and I’m looking for something to put it in. Like as a gift.”

“Like a protective case?” The hostess cocked her head to the side.

“You know, probably not a bad idea. Don’t want it getting damaged. But also something like a bag and a bow or some wrapping paper or something. Like gift supplies.” The hostess was silent for a moment while she mulled things around.

“I think I see what you’re getting at. While we don’t specialize in party supplies we do carry gift bags and wrapping paper during our holiday season for customers just like yourself. I bet we still have some in the back you can use! Do you have the book with you?”

“Oh, I do, it’s in my car. I’m just parked across the street.” Crowley lied like it was natural to him. It was, which helped a lot. “Meet you back here? I’m interested in those protective covers you mentioned.”

“Of course! Let me go grab one real quick! They’re quite nifty!” The hostess wandered off while Crowley snuck behind an empty bookcase, making sure to avoid any cameras, and miracled Aziraphale’s gift into his hands. He was extremely glad right that Head Office hadn’t cut off his miracle privileges, yet. Surely that meant they weren’t too mad with him.

Crowley strut out from behind the bookshelf and found himself a chair near where the hostess had left him. Pulling out his phone, spent a few minutes on his Instagram until the hostess walked back up on him. “I didn’t know what size the book was so I brought two sizes.” Clearly she wasn’t going to say anything about how fast it took Crowley to get to his car and back. _It’s probably for the best anyway_, Crowley mused.

Crowley handed over the book still wrapped in the plastic cling wrap he bought it in. Even a little something was better than nothing when it came to protection. The hostess sat down two moderately thick clear plastic boxes on a nearby table. One just slightly larger than the other.

“This book looks like your average eight point two-five by ten point two-five hardcover so we’re going to go with the bigger one to give it some room. Don’t want to squeeze the books too much in the cases or they get worn down over time.” The hostess clicked a latch on the side of the case to open up the front panel. With a careful hand, she placed the cling-wrapped book into the case and clicked the front panel close. “Now, what makes these cases so unique is that while they have the integrity of a hard plastic case, they also have microslots in them to let the book breathe so they don’t start decaying and molding which is a big problem with some collectors. Books need to breathe just like the rest of us.” While a fun fact, Crowley really didn’t care. Still, Aziraphale should be thrilled with the case being the collector he is. “It fits perfectly! If you do want the case, I recommend taking that cling wrap off as soon as possible so the pages can get some air. Being suffocated like that is bad for the paper.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it. I think my friend will really like it. Now show me how to open this thing and where I can get the key for the lock.” Crowley crowded in beside the hostess, making sure to keep his demonic aura down. He could feel it pulsating at his edges, wanting to create chaos, especially with as bad as he was craving a cigarette right now. He was doing so good earlier in Aziraphale’s bookshop too.

The hostess went into what was too much detail for Crowley about the inner mechanisms of their patented push lock but she dropped the key to the case in his hand and handed him the de-static clinged cased in book before leading him to the check-out.

“So you want this in a bag or wrapped in paper?”

“Depends, what do you have that’s not Christmas themed? You said your gifting paper was mostly for the holidays.”

“We have two bags that are regular patterns and one wrapping paper that’s just polka dots.”  
“Give me a patterned bag, I guess.”

“Do you want blue or tan? Now the tan is more of a plaid pattern but it’s still very lovely!” Now there was a question. Blue was the color of Aziraphale’s eyes, which Crowley loved by the way. But tan was also the color of his suit which while Crowley didn’t love it in general, he did love on Aziraphale.

“You know what? Let’s go with the tan plaid one. Just for giggles. Do you have any of that fancy paper that goes in the top?”

“Comes with the bag, sir!” The hostess popped off to a back room, leaving Crowley along with his thoughts. Was he doing the right thing? Friends bought each other gifts, right? He didn’t have to help Crowley save the world but he did. Seems gift-worthy if you asked him. He did enjoy rare books, too. A rare book as a gift seemed appropriate.

The hostess came back out with a small gift bag made of tan and red plaid patterns and a grey stuffing paper coming out the top. With rapid movements, she removed all of the paper single-handedly in one swipe, placed the book in the bottom of the bag on what sounded like more filler paper, and replaced the top paper in less than ten seconds.

“Your total is a hundred and twenty pounds. Will that be cash, card, or credit?” The hostess held the bag on her side of the counter until Crowley manager to stutter out a shocked ‘cash, please.’ By Satan, Aziraphale was an expensive little shit wasn’t he? A hundred and twenty pounds is nothing in comparison to the book costing around four hundred thousand pounds but still; a hundred and twenty pounds for a bookcase and gift supplies was insane!

Crowley paid the lady and took his gift bag as fast as he could to get out of there before they hit him for anything else. Dinner at the Ritz was one thing, you knew it was expensive going in. It’s one of the most famous restaurants in the world. But a small indie bookshop slash gift shop? Not exactly where you expect to get hit with a hundred and some odd pound bill.

Once he exited the front doors, he miracled a pack of smokes out of his jacket pocket and lit up, dragging in the sweet and savory taste of tobacco and nicotine before heading back to the Bentley. After he dropped the gift off at his apartment, it would be time to start creating some light chaos around London.

At nine on the dot, Aziraphale changed the sign on his shop from open to close. Tape marks from his old hand-written hours sign still lingered on the front door, covered mostly by a new sign he made today with his new standard hours: ten am to nine pm, closed an hour for lunch from one pm to two pm. Also closed on Sunday for inventory and accounting.

He thought they seemed like fair hours. He wasn’t losing too much of the lunch crowd he hoped but he did need time to enjoy a meal. Well, he supposed he didn’t have to but he did enjoy it and want the time set aside in case Crowley and him wanted to grab a bite. Crowley himself wasn’t much on eating but he didn’t seem to mind going out with Aziraphale on occasion. He could always change the hours if he needed to, he supposed. It wasn’t like they were set in stone or anything. They would work for the immediate future, at least.

Small crowds of people passed the bookshop as the sun finished setting. The night sky of Soho descended over the neighborhood as the street lights flickered on for the night crowd. The yellow-ish lights peeked in through the blinds behind the shop’s windows, casting an eerie atmosphere inside the shop as Aziraphale started turning off the interior lights. He was tired, he could feel it in his body, but he still had the time to relax with a few chapters of the new book he was reading and some coco before he needed to be in bed for tomorrow. He promised Crowley and himself he would stick to his new hours and by George he was going to do it, whoever George was.

With a sigh, Aziraphale let himself fall into the couch in the backroom of his shop. It was old, it was ratty, and it smelled vaguely of Crowley’s cologne from the hours he had spent lounging in the thing. It was a nice smell, a very comforting smell to Aziraphale. It was musky with the barest hint of a floral. It was a timeless smell, much like the demon was himself was. On the end table next to the couch sat Aziraphale’s angel mug and the new romance book he had bought himself at the bookstore next door. It had to be special ordered with as old and out of print as it was but Aziraphale had always gone for the timeless classics as he liked to put it. Plus his distributors had never heard of the book so it’s not like he could have ordered it through his own channels and saved the few dollars at buying it wholesale. 

Forcing himself up from the sinkhole that was his couch, Aziraphale shuffled over to the stairs leading up to his flat. The milk for his cocoa was going to take a few minutes to warm up and he was starting to feel a little constrained in his suit. He felt it was getting to be pajama time. 

Slowly climbing up the stairs, Aziraphale practically shuffled through the door to his flat. While it was small, a two bed, one bath, it was decorated to be fairly homely. He had pictures on the wall, a few statues here and there of an angelic collectable nature, a small kitchenette complete with a fridge and stove, and a small bedroom with a built in master suite bathroom complete with a shower/tub combo. He did love his bubble baths after a long day. He also had an office in the spare bedroom where he did most of his business management in privacy and quiet.

Ravaging through his sparse fridge, he picked up the milk and pulled his saucepan from the sink. Pouring two cups of milk into the pan, Aziraphale set the burner to a low heat and left it to warm. He took two steps towards his bedroom before giving up and miracling himself into his pajamas and took a seat at the island bar connected to his countertop. He was open for most of his new hours today and he felt so drained. He figured it mostly had to do with the fact that he hardly had any customers after he and Crowley came back from lunch. He could see the bills coming in without any money in his till and every hour that went without any customers just meant that much less money to play with. He really didn’t want to depend on Crowley to keep his doors open but it was starting to look like he may not have any other choice after his savings ran out, which was set to do in about six months if the trend of his usual customer base continued.

The smell of warm milk filled the small kitchen area. Aziraphale took the cue and pulled the hot cocoa powder from his cabinet and his angel mug which he carried up with him and whipped up a warm glass of hot cocoa, complete with mini marshmallows. Heading back downstairs, Aziraphale sat himself down on the end cushion of the couch and cracked open his book, losing himself in the tales of a medieval romance of two knights in love, however destined to be apart.

At ten at night, across town, Crowley’s flat in Mayfair was open yet sparse, just the way the demon liked it. He was someone who moved every ten years or so to keep his trail cold from humans who suspected something was amiss with the man who never seemed to age. He kept his belongings light except for the collectables he kept from his run-ins with Aziraphale. A statue of an angel and demon fighting, a constant reminder of his falling (something he never wanted to forget yet would die to forget at the same time), an eagle lectern from the church he and Aziraphale survived a bombing in, and of course, his many, many plants.

The two bed, two bath luxury flat looked like someone had never lived in it, which was partially true. As a demon, Crowley lived for the nightlife. It was when he did his best tempting; all of the most unsavory humans came out after dark. As someone who also didn’t need sleep, this meant he could go day and night; time for his Angel and time for his work. While his relationship with head office was strained, he was still doing his daily rounds despite not seeing himself reporting in any official capacity any time soon. He just wasn’t taking on any big projects like crashing London’s cellular network again. That one was a labor of love if it was anything.

Setting on this leather couch (another miracled in item, like most of the furniture in the apartment), he flipped on his television to a rerun of Golden Girls and kicked up the footrest on the couch, taking a deep sigh and feeling the muscles in his body unclench. 

He guessed free time wasn’t the right word, necessarily. His stupid love struck mouth just signed him up for a major overhaul of Aziraphale’s bookshop, which was going to take at least a few months if not a year. A groan emanated from his mouth as he huffed at his own stupidity. He would walk through hell and high water for his angel but sometimes he really needed to think things through before volunteering for major projects like this. To be fair, he did walk through heaven and hellfire for his Angel but his angel also walked through hell and took a holy water bath for him so it was an even swap all things considered.

The episode playing on the television ended with the credits rolling and fading into an infomercial about some kind of impressive fix-all tape. While not a demonic invention, he would admit he did take credit for annoying infomercials with Head Office. Not the most evil thing but it did cause frustration all across the world which he considered a win. Flipping through the channels, Crowley found nothing of significant interest. _Five hundred channels of (admittedly free) cable and nothing interesting on, figures _, he internally grimaced. He looked up at the clock, seeing an eleven pm glaring at him. Well, if he wasn’t going to be working tonight, he supposed he could pick up his second favorite pastime: sleeping. He figured he would pop over to Aziraphale’s around one forty-five and then see how the day went from there. That meant he could sleep in until noon. That would give him plenty of time to miracle himself ready and drive through Soho traffic.

Standing up and stretching, Crowley miracled himself into a pair of boxers and a tank top and sauntered off to bed, ready to sleep in for once. What a day it had been; a nap would do him good. He just hoped his Angel was getting some sleep as well, they were going to need it with the project they had both just taken on.


	4. In Which an Angel and a Demon Prepare for the Day Ahead

The day started at a sharp eight am for Aziraphale. His old alarm clock rang its bells, shocking him out of a solid sleep. Reaching over across the bed, he slapped the little knob between the two bells, giving himself another nine minutes of blissful rest before he was forced to start the day. It didn’t matter much through, Aziraphale was now awake whether he wanted to be or not. It just meant nine more minutes before he was forced to get out of bed. Rolling over, Aziraphale reached over for his flip phone, checking for any messages from Crowley, who was a known night owl and was famous for sending him messages at three in the morning. He never expected a response until the next day but he still was known for sending them at ungodly hours of the night.

For the first time in several months, his phone read zero messages. Did Crowley take the night off for once or was just mad at him because of all the renovations stuff? He didn’t ask for Crowley’s help with revamping his shop though, Crowley offered. Was he mad because Aziraphale was mad about the renovations? Aziraphale wouldn’t say he was mad necessarily but was more frustrated that they were necessary in the first place. Did Crowley need some space? Should he message him asking him if he was okay? So many thoughts raced through Aziraphale’s head at once it started swimming. A slight panic ran through his veins at the thought of losing his best friend, even temporarily. Well, he supposed they were more than friends in an ethereal sense but he really didn’t want to press the issue and risk losing Crowley all together.

Aziraphale unplugged the phone from its charger and rolled over in bed to his back, trying to work up the courage to reach out and message Crowley, even if it was something mundane.

“Are we still on for computer shopping today? :)” He typed up the message quickly and gave it a little smiley face to try and take the panic out of it. It was an innocent enough message, he supposed. With a forced motion, he hit send before he could talk himself out of it. Hopefully it would prompt Crowley to respond back soon and soothe his fraying nerves.

Well, now he was really awake. Throwing his comforter back, Aziraphale sat up in bed and stretched, enjoying the way his muscles pulled and loosened after a night of deep sleep. Almost on cue, the alarm clock started ringing again, jarring him out of his peaceful morning stretch. With a huff, he slapped the alarm clock off and threw his legs off of the bed and started pittering around the apartment, getting ready for the day. His shop was due to open at ten, that gave him two hours to shower, make and have breakfast, and get ready to open for business.

Aziraphale was an angel that despite having the power to bend the world to his fingers, found a strange romanticism with doing things the human way (barring a few things here and there or when he was tired in general like last night). He loved making his own breakfast the old fashioned way on his tiny stove. He loved the way it felt to button up all of the buttons on his vest (and coat if the weather called for it) rather than miracling his clothes on. He especially loved the way it felt to brush his own hair (even if never stayed the way he styled it). Pretending to be a human was whimsical to Aziraphale and he loved to play the role when he could. It was part of the reason he opened a bookshop other than to have the room for more books. Some of the most successful humans ran businesses! He could pretend to be one of them! A small indie bookkeeper was not a bad job to have on paper either.

At 9:30AM, Aziraphale finished his morning routines and stood to look at himself in the full length mirror in his bedroom. He may have worn the same suit everyday but every morning he found himself looking at it and thinking to himself, _my, how stylish!_. Crowley always heckled him for it despite the demon pretty much wearing the same jeans, t-shirt, and bolo tie without the clasp combination everyday. He would admit that Crowley did change with the times more than Aziraphale but Aziraphale was an angel that didn’t see any good reason to fix what wasn’t broken. His suit was in perfectly fine condition! It was still spiffy as the day he bought it so anyone who didn’t like it could just go away and mind their own business.

With a small twirl, Aziraphale headed downstairs, mentally preparing for what he hoped would be a busy morning. He was already going to be gone longer than his posted lunch hour so he could count on losing that income but with enough of a rush before and after, he could offset the loss.

Looking at the clock, Aziraphale felt he had enough time to get in some morning chores before opening. Taking out his trusty duster from the back room, he started dusting off the main centerpieces and more frequented bookshelves. Nobody looked through his religious prophecy section anyway so he didn’t see much point in keeping up with appearances back there. He also took a quick swipe at the blinds of the shop since he had the duster out anyway.

At 9:55AM, Aziraphale opened up his curtains and blinds, letting in the morning sunlight through the shop. The front door had the key prepped in it, ready to go, and Aziraphale prepared his daily paper log of sales so he could input inventory on Sunday. Maybe Crowley did have a point; who kept paper logs of their sales in this day and age? Grimacing to himself, Aziraphale shook the thought out of his head that Crowley (Crowley, of all people!) was onto something and instead chose to unlock his front door two minutes early. Maybe opening for business would take his mind off of the demon’s words.

About an hour into the shop opening, Aziraphale was able to greet his first customer. A younger couple looking to purchase books on pagan fortune telling or divination. They weren’t really sure about the difference. It was on a research project they were doing for class.

While Aziraphale’s store was focused on prophecy books and classic first editions, he didn’t really have anything on paganism. While the two were disappointed in hearing this, he did spend the next half hour showing them his copies of general prophecy books and talked about how some of them were written by witches. The couple bought copies of two books and seemed satisfied with their purchases. He wished them the best in their book report as they walked out the door.

By noon, Aziraphale was bored. Business was slower than usual with only two more customers coming in and deciding not to buy anything. “I was looking for the new John Grisham book!” one of them said. Aziraphale knew the author’s name but had admittedly never been into law mystery books so he had to sadly turn them away to the shop next door which specialized in more popular books. Now, if he were talking about genres in general, historical romance was a genre Aziraphale could get behind. Maybe that’s what his shop’s new specialty should be. However, before Aziraphale could get too deep into that thought, his phone buzzed.

“I’m still on for shopping if u r.” A text message from Crowley popped up on his outer screen. Overjoyed, Aziraphale opened his phone and was relieved to see Crowley was still talking to him. Maybe he just took the night off; it wouldn’t surprise Aziraphale to see that happening with him not speaking to his Head Office.

“Are we still on for 2PM then? I can’t wait for lunch!” Aziraphale poked his message out slowly before hitting send. He felt it sounded a little two selfish. “Are you in the mood for anything specific? My treat! You paid last time.” He sent the follow up message feeling a little bit better about his word choice.

Meanwhile, in Mayfair, Crowley was barely awake and resenting his phone going off what felt like every five seconds. He knew his Angel could be clingy but the one thing Crowley hated more than Hastur himself was being forced to be functionally awake before his natural perk kicked in. After the sixth buzz, Crowley angrily grabbed his phone and looked at the two messages Aziraphale had sent him. So it was the repeat notifications that made it seem like his Angel was blowing his phone up. Now he felt bad and Aziraphale wasn’t even here to be mad at personally.

“Gauthier sounds chill if youre up for it. Haven’t had crepes in a while. Theres also ledbury if you’re looking for modern.” Crowley quickly typed up his message and hit send before Aziraphale could get another word in edgewise. Sighing, he sunk back into his pillow and wished for just another few hours of sleep. He loved the feeling of waking up rested for once. What he loved even more was a lazy post wake-up stretch which loosened all of his muscles in just the right places.

Another buzz rattled his phone, “Gauthier sounds perfect! I’ll miracle us in some reservations for 2:30PM. See you soon!” Crowley couldn’t help but smile at the message. Leave it Aziraphale to always be one step ahead. Crowley decided he was awake enough to start his day after those few back and forth messages. Rolling out of his comforter to sit up, Crowley stood and miracled his bed back into shape before trotting off to the kitchen where he started his Kureig to make his usual morning cup of coffee. It was an unnecessary habit considering he rarely slept like a normal human and didn’t need a cup of coffee to get going in the morning but it was something he did everyday and he didn’t plan on denying himself caffeine at this point in time.

The aromatic smell of the roasted beans filled the kitchen as Crowley flipped on the noon news and hung around the machine as it filled his coffee cup. A black ceramic cup with two little red devil horns embossed on the front and a small red pointed devil tail embossed on the other side. He found it funny when he saw it on sale online. He also found it to be the perfect counter to Aziraphale’s angel wings cup. Plus it held the perfect amount of coffee at eighteen ounces. 

Crowley took the full cup and pittered over to the couch and slowly sipped his coffee as the news played across the screen. His late afternoon exploits even got a passing mention; who said gluing coins down around public parks wasn’t evil? Clearly it made enough people upset to the point it made city-wide television.

Many demons said Crowley wasn’t evil as much as a pain in the ass. He made people upset and annoyed but he never did anything evil. To Crowley, evil was subjective. Making people upset just for the point of making people upset was considered evil to him. Just because he wasn’t going around tempting priests or enabling child abuse didn’t mean he wasn’t evil, it just meant he had standards for the actions he put his name to. In what world was crashing the entire London cell network not evil? Or gluing coins to sidewalks? They people downstairs had no idea how many people became annoyed to downright angry when they thought they had found a two pound coin only to make a fool of themselves nearly falling down when they pulled to hard on it. It was brilliant for a small force of evil! The people at Head Office just had no respect for modernized evil. They really needed to get with the times.

Crowley sat and drank his morning (well, technically afternoon) coffee while watching the news for several minutes. Aziraphale has his nightly cocoa and reading routine, Crowley had his morning coffee. Maybe both of them were more human than they cared to give themselves credit for. Still, it gave Crowley a sense of time and a point of being, something an immortal like himself desperately needed.

Crowley relaxed as he sipped on his coffee and half-paid attention to the news. His mind kept going back to his plans for the day: computer shopping, a date with Aziraphale. Even now his face went slightly pink when he thought about it. A date of all things. He didn’t think it was a date date but it still made his stomach flutter a little thinking about the word being connected to their future lunch together. Maybe he should start calling them dates as well since Aziraphale was so comfortable with it. _Or maybe I should just keep my mouth shut before I stick my foot in it any further_, he grumbled to himself.

Crowley finished his coffee and rinsed his mug out in the sink while the news finished playing at twelve-thirty on the dot. It was only a ten minute trip to Soho from his apartment so he still had plenty of time to finish getting ready. With a chime, Crowley’s phone dinged again. Another text from Aziraphale with a picture of the online confirmation of their lunch at Gauthier’s. Usually he just took Aziraphale’s word for it when they had lunch plans but for some reason Aziraphale was going the extra mile today. It didn’t quite sit right with Crowley. Maybe he would pop over a little bit early and see what was up with the Angel because something was clearly going on behind the scenes.

With a flick of his wrist, Crowley miracled himself ready. His usual outfit sufficed for most days. He knew he gave Aziraphale grief for dressing the same everyday but at least when Crowley did it, he was up with the times. Granted, he changed a little bit every time. A different color shirt here, a different style of bolo tie there, a change in cologne on occasion. He didn’t dress exactly the same everyday (not matter what that silly angel said). He just had a theme with his clothing and he appreciated it. Nothing wrong with that.

Grabbing his keys from the key hook and wallet from the bowel by his door, Crowley was out the door by one-fifteen, a half hour earlier than he originally planned. Heading downstairs from his second floor flat, Crowley quickly found himself in the parking garage underneath the first floor apartments and found his assigned parking spot (the very best one by the front door, of course). As Crowley unlocked his door, three cars down, one of his floor neighbors pulled into their spot. Balloons filled the back of their SUV and what seemed like a whole army of children piled out of the car with colorful bags in their hands. At the forefront of the small army stood Chet, one of the boy’s father.

“Alright kiddos, in the apartment you go. I’ll grab the cake. Kevin has the apartment key so follow him.” The little horde screamed in excitement about the prospect of the iced sugar bread and ran towards the complex. Crowley hoped little Kevin would be able to lead the group safely. “Oh, Anthony, how’s it going? Sorry about the noise. It’s Kevin’s birthday today so we invited his friends over to hang out.”

“It’s no problem, mate. I’m heading out for the day and’ll probably be gone ‘till late. Helping a friend build up a business and all that.” There were several occasions which Crowley threw on his “thick” accent. One, when he was absolutely plastered out of his mind (which happened with a regular frequency) and two, when around people he spent a more than normal time around but tried to conceal his identity with. Changing his accent was just a part of changing his ‘identity every twenty years, for Crowley. No one had met Northern Crowley yet. Or, at least not in the past eighty years.

“Sounds exciting! I’ll try and get most of the kids home before dark so no worries there. Some of them may spend the night but for everyone’s sake I’ll have them down before 9 or 10. Have fun with your friend!” With that, Chet picked up the cake from the trunk and practically dashed inside the complex. One one hand, Crowley hoped the kids hadn’t caused too much damage in the short time he spent chatting because he rather didn’t mind Chet and sort of liked him. He was a really good neighbor who took his floormates into consideration. On his demonic side, he kind of hoped the kids trashed the place because the ensuring chaos would be spectacular to watch. _Such is the life of a demon_, Crowley supposed.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

The scene did give Crowley pause though. Maybe he should take Aziraphale’s gift with him. Would today be a good day to give it to him? Sort of a “welcome into business” gift along with the “thanks for helping me save the world” connotation? Or should he just stick to lunch and shopping? He really wanted to gift to mean something to Aziraphale. It meant a lot to Crowley when he bought it and he wanted his friend to see the meaning behind it, not just as a throwaway “oh by the way, thanks” sort of thing.

The shrieking of children could be heard through the sliding glass door of the parking garage. Crowley quickly decided it wasn’t worth going through the stampede of children to get back to his apartment. He would just give the gift to Aziraphale another day. Maybe his birthday would be good, whenever his birthday was. He would probably have to swipe Aziraphale’s driver’s license to see when he listed his Earth birthday as. Angels and demons didn’t have them in their respective “zones”, Crowley liked to put it as.

Falling into his car, Crowley quickly started the machine and peeled out of the garage. Both Mayfair and Soho traffic never know what hit it when Crowley drove through it. 

It took a startling seven minutes for Crowley to reach the outside of the A.Z. Fell Bookshop. Crowley grabbed one of the parking spaces just down the street from the shop and slowly meandered his way up, taking the chance to cause a few havocs along the way; a small sudden puddle here, an untied shoelace there, just some small things to get the demonic aura inside him off of his back for a little bit.

The first thing Crowley noticed about the shop was the new hours sign. Instead of the meandering several paragraphs which hung in the window for years which could have easily been summarized with “I open when I want”, there was a new lovely handwritten set schedule with easily recognizable and quite frankly, fair hours.

“So, what do you think?” Crowley didn’t even hear Aziraphale open the door or see him stick his head out. He nearly jumped out of his skin and almost manifested into snake form.

“Don’t do that! You know what can I happen when I get spooked like that.” Crowley herded Aziraphale back inside and followed him in.

“You mean the snake thing? I always thought it was sort of cute.” Aziraphale seemed rather pleased with himself for being able to scare Crowley. It’s not often that it happens. Usually his demonic aura is fast to catch people coming up on him but he must have been too involved reading the new sign to have it on alert. Crowley was also electing to ignore the ‘cute’ part.

Crowley simply rolled his eyes and started towards the back of the shop and his usual spot. Aziraphale followed him back, taking the time to tidy books along the way as he went. By the time Aziraphale did reach the back, he found Crowley filling up two wine glasses with the bottle he started a few days ago.

“Need something to take the edge off?” Aziraphale questioned when handed his glass.

“What? Can’t a demon enjoy an afternoon glass? I had a busy morning. Anyway, moving back to the hours thing.” Crowley put his verbal foot down and decided to move on whether Aziraphale was on board or not and by the pouty look on his face, he was not on board, “The hours look fair. That’s eleven hours a day, ten with lunch. We can consider cutting back when business picks up but for now that gives you a wide availability for customer acquisition. Good job on that. Now, all we have to do is stick to them.” With that sentence, Crowley let himself fall into the couch.

“Yes, well, I figured it was a good first step.” Aziraphale looked away from Crowley with a small blush on his face. It seemed like he was always blushing about something, Crowley thought to himself. Aziraphale took the seat at the table next to the couch and started sipping carefully on his wine.

“You did a good job, Angel. A first step is a first step. Now all we need to do is step two, getting you a new computer.”

“After lunch though, yes?” Aziraphale perked up at the mention of food and drummed his fingers together around the glass.

“Yes Angel, after lunch.” Crowley could only sigh like he had given into a major demand. He also couldn’t help but smile a little at his Angel’s enthusiasm. If getting Aziraphale to agree to shop renovations meant he had to go out to lunch with him then he had a lot more lunch dates in his future. “So, how has business been this morning?” Crowley changed topics in an effort to find out what was going on with Aziraphale’s sudden change in behavior.

“Oh! It’s been sort of busy actually! I’ve had four customers today! Two of them bought something!” Aziraphale seems mildly pleased with himself. Obviously the two customers who got away were disappointing but at least he got two of them, Crowley thought to himself.

“Oh yeah? Anything good?” Crowley took a swig from his glass.

“They bought some books on prophecy, actually. Not a genre I sell a lot of so it was nice to see some of my myriad copies go. Apparently they were doing a book report on paganism and fortune telling.”

“You know, always liked the pagans. Fun bunch, them.” Crowley swung his glass for emphasis. 

“But still, nice that they bought something. Hopefully they’ll come back once they’re done with their report.”

“They seemed nice. I do hope they come back. Very respectful teenagers all things considered.” Aziraphale wandered away with his thoughts as he took a sip of his wine. Crowley just looked at him over his Valentino’s and knew his friend would be gone for at least the next five minutes. Aziraphale has a bad habit of just spacing out mid conversation when his memories struck him. Probably off thinking about the other teenagers who came into his shop to give him grief over the years. Nothing for Crowley to worry about, at least.

Standing up and chucking his glass back like a shot, Crowley downed the last of his wine and sat the glass down on Aziraphale’s table. He might as well at least get a refresher of the store while Aziraphale was off in his own world.

The back of the shop was the same as it usually was, dusty, cobwebs on the ceiling, and generally untouched for the past few months. Aziraphale’s biblical prophecy section rarely saw human contact except for the seminary boys from the local college looking for esoteric references for their classes. He obviously didn’t keep up with the cleaning back here for the same reason: no one ever visited. That was something that was going to have to change.

Moving up, Crowley found himself in the biblical section with a couple of copies of The Bible of various natures (naturally) and a couple of displayed copies of Aziraphale’s rare misprints and self-edited copies. It was a small section, only two shelves worth, most of them taken up by the bible copies for sale but it was a dense section if he had ever seen one. Just…. So many copies of the King James’s Bible. It must be Aziraphale’s favorite. Crowley never did care for King James except for the ruckus he caused during his reign. Now that was quality entertainment, for the time it was set in at least.

Parsing over to the left, Crowley found himself in the generalized prophecy section. Fortune telling, end of the world predictions, most of them of a religious nature but there were a few secular copies in there. Crowley could immediately find several books on the whole Y2K scandal that happened around the turn of the century. He even found some new books on the proposed end of the world that would happen with the clocks turning to the year 2038. Nuclear Armageddon like that was supposed to happen with Y2K. He could tell the books were new because they had yet to be covered in dust on their tops. While Aziraphale was good about dusting the spines and the front of the shelves, he didn’t really go any deeper beyond that. What was the point if no one visited and your head office paid all of your bills? No customers means he didn’t have the clean as much.

Moving diagonally, Crowley moved onto the religious analysis section. It was a fairly new section by Aziraphale’s standards. He mostly got it for the students who were studying Seminary at the local colleges and needed references for their papers. It was also the only section Aziraphale didn’t really mind selling from since he didn’t carry any rare first editions from it or take a great interest in the subject itself. It also served to provide a trail of sales paperwork for tax purposes. It was a fairly expanded section, all things considered. Four cupboard, front and back, mostly on Christianity and their various forms. Some even specialized in American religious standards instead of the usual Church of England standards. Crowley picked up a book on southern Baptism and flipped through it, gleaming words like “hellfire” and “damnation”. Fun bunch, the Baptists, apparently. The shelves were still a little dusty in the American section. Apparently they didn’t see much use.

Glancing around the walls, Crowley noticed a mishmash of various types of media. Some of Aziraphale’s records lined the wall cabinets. Some plays like The Sound of Music, which Crowley could only roll his eyes at. It was the threat of that stupid musical that got Aziraphale to help him with the apocalypse in the first place. Some of his historical romance books filled the shelves but mostly it was spare bibles, spare prophecy books, and well, spare everything really. It was where Aziraphale kept his overflow copies and “extras” that didn’t fit into a section. He thought he might have seen some popular media and children’s books in there but Crowley wasn’t interested enough to go digging through the hellscape that was Aziraphale’s extra section.

Shaking his head at Aziraphale’s organizational and dusting standards, he moved on to the freestanding tables with random copies of books. There were mostly book that Aziraphale himself had bought, read, and was now reselling. They were pretty inconspicuous copies of historical romances, many of them of a LGBTQIA+ plus variety, Crowley noted. Many of them were also rare and out of print, making them very valuable, especially those from popular authors before they made their big breaks. However, most of them were from indie authors who faded into obscurity when their first book didn’t sell too well. Crowley picked a copy off the top, a hefty book that featured two knights back to back of each other, one in black armor and one in silver. It reminded Crowley a lot of when he was masquerading as the Black Knight during the medieval times and ran into Aziraphale. The back cover gave a brief synopsis of the book: two knights were secretly in love and serving in different armies yet were destined to meet on the battlefield and they had to make a choice: love or war. It seemed okay, not something Crowley would read in his spare time but then again, Crowley never read in his spare time so there was that. Unless, of course, Aziraphale kept pestering him over a book he recommended but that stopped about a hundred years ago when Aziraphale started getting into his historical romances. 

“Crowley? Where did you go?” Aziraphale’s voice called from the back room.

“I’m in the front. Just taking a look around.” Crowley called back as he sat the book down. Maybe he would look into his historical romance stuff later. It was clearly something Aziraphale was into. It gave him ideas for another gifted book in the near future.

“Oh, there you are. Did you find anything interesting?” Aziraphale came bounding up with the glass of half drank wine still in his hand.

“Just seeing what you had on the shelves. Getting an idea of the shop and all. Never really took the time to really look around, you know?” Crowley shrugged and straightened a few books in front of him, much to Aziraphale’s hidden delight. It warmed his heart to see Crowley take an interest in his shop, no matter how small.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a minute. Talking about those teenagers gave me flashbacks to some other ruffians who tried to vandalize my shop with me still in it because I wouldn’t let them just take the books.” Aziraphale took a small sip of his wine and looked around the shop to see if Crowley had moved anything.

“I guessed as much. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what you had going on what with all the plans we have in store.”

“Yes, well, I suppose we’re going to have to cross that bridge eventually.” Aziraphale didn’t sound too happy about the matter but his grumbling meant that he had accepted the matter to some degree. If they were lucky, it meant no more panic attacks in front of St. James Park was Crowley’s hope.

“One step at a time, Angel. Now, what do you think about the sectioning of your books around here?”

“My sectioning? Well, I think it’s okay. I have my more browsed sections up front and my lesser ones in the back. I have a random assortment in the very front on the tables. It’s not a very big shop so there’s not a ton of room to reorganize things.” Aziraphale took a brisk walk to the front of the store and gave it a look over as he talked. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

“Didn’t really have anything in mind. Just seeing if you had a method to the madness. I was thinking if you’re going to expand your collection, put your more popular titles up front. I knew we talked about getting some more mainstream authors in here.” Crowley slowly circled the round tables of historical romance as he talked, observing the way Aziraphale had set up his display tables.

“Yes, that may be something I have to do. The second couple that came in today were looking for John Grisham books. I had to send them next door.” Aziraphale took a swing of his wine in bitter taste and glared at his front door.

“I’m sure your neighbor thanks you for the business.” Crowley’s smart-ass remark came out of his mouth before he could stop it. Aziraphale whirled on him and glared over his wine glass. “Sorry Angel, came out before I even thought about it.” Crowley hunkered down and hoped his apology would calm his friend down before he got an earful.

“Yes, well, apology accepted I suppose. I should know how your mouth works by now.” It took everything Crowley had in himself not to offer a demonstration of what his mouth could actually do. Then again, after years of socializing with the Angel, he knew Aziraphale rarely meant the suggestive things that came out of his mouth and he really didn’t appreciate Crowley capitalizing on those Freudian slips. It was just so much fun though. So, he finally trained himself to retort to them internally and smirk at his own brilliance. “Oh dear, I’ve said something suggestive again, haven’t I?” Aziraphale immediately saw the smile crawl across Crowley’s face and knew a mistake had been made.

“It’s no big deal.” Crowley tried to reassure his friend but it was really hard when he was snickering like a 12 year old boy. “Truly Angel, it’s nothing.”

“I’m sure.” Aziraphale threw back the last of his wine and sat the glass down on the check-out desk. “It’s why you’re over there snickering like a teenager.” Crowley bit his tongue and counted to ten, forcing himself to get rid of his giggles.

“Am not. Not anymore, anyway.” Aziraphale threw his hands up and sat himself in his computer chair, rubbing his face in frustration. He loved Crowley to death, he truly did, but sometimes the demon made him question why. “C’mon Angel, don’t get in a sour mood right before lunch. It’s going to make the shopping afterwards miserable.” Crowley stalked behind him and threw his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“I know, I know. I’m just not looking forward to all these changes. It makes me antsy.” It may not have been the whole truth but it was the truth Aziraphale went with. “The computer has sentimental value, Crowley.”

“Well, it can be sentimental in the back office or in your flat. You need something that will actually run your business and not have to be miracled every week just to get inventory done.” Aziraphale buried his face in his hands and let out a groan. This was going to be like pulling teeth, Crowley could already tell.

“This is only as painful as you make it, Angel. C’mon, we’ll have lunch, go shopping, pick up some new business software, and bring that shit home and set it all up. It’ll be easy.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulders and gave him a small shake. “Speaking of lunch, it’s almost time to leave for ours. Are you ready?”

Aziraphale lowered his hands and sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon, clearly. He was so looking forward to it this morning, which is what really got him. He even missed Crowley this morning and now, here he was making him do stuff he didn’t want to do in the first place. Why did he miss him again? He should have just kept his mouth shut and suffered through another business-less day.

“C’mon Aziraphale. Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world.” _Oh good, jokes_, Aziraphale sarcastically thought to himself.

“Do we have to?” Aziraphale finally broke down and started whining as Crowley started towards the front door. “Can’t we just do lunch and forget about the computer stuff?”

“Well, we could but it would be pointless in terms of helping your business. You do want to make this place self-sustaining, right?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale sighed.

“And you want to be able to run this place without Head Office interfering, right?”

“Yes”, another sigh and a groan.

“Alright, then we take that first step to updating your infrastructure. Easy decision.” Aziraphale sulked in his seat. “C’mon, Angel. It’s not that bad. I’ll even be here helping you. That’s gotta mean something right?” Crowley started back towards Aziraphale and crouched down to face him at eye level.

Now he remembered why he missed Crowley. It was because he was a big old softie and Aziraphale could sulk his way into pretty much anything with him. “We’re even going to be getting crepes.”

“I do like crepes.” Aziraphale finally gave up the sulk and let Crowley help him out of the decaying computer chair. “And as much as I hate to say it, maybe we could look at a new computer chair while we’re out. This one keeps poking me with it’s broken leather.” Aziraphale reached around the back of his legs and itched where the broken plastic had dug into the back of his thighs.

“I wasn’t going to say it but that thing it fifty years past its throw out date.”

“I’m not throwing it out. It was a gift from Sandalphon. I’m just going to keep it in the back room as a souvenir or something.” The ‘or something’ came out so soft it was a surprise Crowley heard it. Not really sure the ‘or something’ could be but Crowley decided it was best not to question his Angel at the current point in time.

“So, do you know what you’re getting at Gauthier’s?” Crowley held the door open for Aziraphale as he walked out.

“Not yet, but I’m thinking something light and refreshing instead of heavy.” Aziraphale was a foodie at heart, no doubt about it because his mood changed almost instantly when discussing his next meal. “Maybe some tortellini or trout. I could go for some fish or pasta. Do you know what you want?” Crowley led the way up the street to where he was parked, Aziraphale following closely behind even at Crowley’s speed. For some reason, thinking about lunch was putting a perk in his step.

“Not yet. I’m going to peruse the menu when I get there. Gauthier’s does their seasonal menu and it’s been quite a while since I’ve been so I have no idea what they’re serving this time of year.”

“Well, I for one simply cannot wait for our lunch together. The shopping, well, we’ll take it one step at a time, right Crowley?” Aziraphale looked at Crowley over the hood of the Bentley, a sparkle in his eye. It was nice to see him happy again after all the doom and gloom they just had in the shop.

“Absolutely, Angel. Now c’mon, we have a reservation to make.” With that, both the angel and the demon closed their doors with only a few seconds to spare before Crowley pulled into Soho traffic for the five minute drive to the restaurant.


	5. In Which Lunch and Shopping Fills the Afternoon

Lunch went off without a hitch. Both Crowley and Aziraphale made light conversation over the food and spent a good hour and a half enjoying each other’s company. Two courses later and both the angel and a demon found themselves outside of the restaurant waiting for the valet to bring their car around.

“That was delicious, Crowley. Thank you for taking the time to visit the restaurant with me. I know eating’s not really your thing.” Aziraphale was bouncing on his heels next to Crowley under the awning of Gauthier’s.

“No problem, Angel. Are you ready for the second part of the day?” Crowley was chewing on a non-mint toothpick, trying to evade the post-meal cigarette craving. While eating was not necessarily his thing, he was more than happy to spend time with his Angel, even if it meant choking down some food from time to time. The only downside to these frequent meal times was the fact that he always had a demonic aura flare up with his cigarette cravings. It also made him be extremely on edge.

“I suppose. It’s hard to be positive about this sort of thing but you seem to be doing okay with it so I guess I’ll be following your example!” Aziraphale clasped his hands together with a penchant look on his face. It was like he was stuck between trying to be happy about what was going on and throwing a tantrum. It was sort of creepy to Crowley who was used to Aziraphale being the happy-go-lucky of the two.

“Well, at least I’m an example for someone. Not used to hearing that one.” Crowley chewed on his toothpick even harder. Aziraphale certainly knew how to put the pressure on. Crowley was not used to being used as a positive example in any way, shape, or form. He was a demon for whoever’s sake! He was used as a warning, not a guiding light.

“Well, in this case you make a fine example. Shall we?” The Bentley was pulled up to the driveway, the runner opening the door for Crowley who slide right into his seat. Aziraphale, slightly miffed at being left out, hurried over to the passenger's side and sat down. “Where are we going to now?”

“There’s a little tech store with great reviews just down the road from us. I figured it would be a great stopping point. They also specialize in small business software from what I read online. Seemed like the perfect place.” Crowley pulled a U-turn just outside of Gauthier’s and started deadheading north up the streets.

“And this software is user friendly?” Aziraphale sounded nervous. Probably both from Crowley’s driving and the thought of using a new system for his business. Guessing which one was causing the most anxiety was anyone’s game.

“Depends on what you buy. We’ll ask when we get there. I’m sure they have some recommendations. If not, I always have Google in my pocket.” Crowley patted his jacket pocket with a smirk on his face.

“Google does know all.” Aziraphale reluctantly agreed. He may have been new to the whole online scene but he did at least know the most popular web search in the world and even used it a few times. Now anything else? Not so much. He knew the basics. He knew how to search for things and how to make online reservations at restaurants but still lacked the whole concept of social media and online bill paying.

Five minutes was all it took to get to the computer store. It was literally just a few streets over, Crowley reminded him. Also one of the top rated according to Yelp (whatever a Yelp was). 

Aziraphale knitted his brows together in confusion and mild frustration. Despite being an avid reader and learner, Aziraphale still felt out of the loop when it came to technology. It was something he just never really kept up with as time went by. He may have been the first angel to use them when they first came out but that was as far as his computer expertise went.

Crowley, however, was a technology fiend (and a fiend in general). He always seemed to have his hands in something related to computers. He always had the newest smartphone (sometimes several depending on his needs). He always kept an updated desktop at home, which never made sense to Aziraphale because he always did everything by his phone. He also was known for getting into the pockets of the most famous technologically influenced people on the globe if not helping create a few companies along the way (which Crowley loved to point out). Aziraphale felt, well to put it honestly, left behind.

“Only one way forward, Angel. You coming or not?” Crowley was across the street staring at a confused Aziraphale who was still sat in the Bentley with a sullen look on his face.

“Yes, alright, I’m coming. Just lost in thought for a moment.” Aziraphale quickly unbuckled himself and shuffled out of the car and over to Crowley who resumed his freaky long-legged pace.

“What were you thinking about that was fascinating enough to ignore me calling for you?” Crowley could be a bit of a flippant ass at times. Not that he meant to be, he just had a naturally harsh vocabulary and tone.

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about my relationship with technology. Or rather, lack thereof. I used to be one of the first angels to have or even use a computer when they first came out and oh, yes, hello, and now look at me.” Aziraphale acknowledged the door greeter as he and Crowley walked past. He hoped seeing them both in conversation would keep the sales people off of them. Aziraphale mildly detested sales people. He knew they were just doing their jobs but they were famous for ruining a perfectly pleasant afternoon of shopping. Or at least they did the last time Aziraphale went suit shopping.

“Only one way to learn. Just buy one and play with it. It’s how I keep up with things.” Crowley was busy scrolling through his phone to really pay anyone else any mind. He was looking for something, Aziraphale assumed.

“I guess I could. I was thinking of taking a class or something instead. Seems like a more logical way to do it.”

“If you wanted to spend the money, sure.” Crowley seemed satisfied with what he had found on his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

“Anyway, would you care to show me this computer you had in mind? Or do we know what we’re looking for?”

“Already found the perfect one, Angel. It’s on my phone as soon as I find a salesperson to get it for us.” Crowley immediately wandered off towards the desktop department, leaving Aziraphale alone near the accessories. Sighing, dejected, and now alone, Aziraphale decided to take matters into his own hands and started looking around for the computer chairs. If he was left to his own devices, he might as well find what he needed, without or without Crowley’s help.

A small section of decorated leather chairs stood before Aziraphale only a few isles down. Some of them had pillows sewn into them near the heads and middle of the back. Most of them looked like simple office chairs made of stout black and brown leather with appropriately high arm rests (unlike the one he had now).

“Are you looking for something specific?” A young man popped out from behind the isle to see Aziraphale looking contemplative. He was wearing a business shirt and khakis with his hair brushed just out of his eyes. He couldn’t have been a day older than twenty, Aziraphale thought to himself.

“Yes, actually. I’m looking for a new desk chair as mine is starting to crack under the years of use. Do you have one for people who sit for long periods of time at the desk? I run a small bookshop and spend all Sunday at my computer.” Practically every Sunday, Aziraphale was glued to his computer, leaving him little time for anything else. After awhile, his back did start to hurt. He was honestly pretty glad those days he didn’t need to eat or use the bathroom like a normal human did as it took all day to do his usual tasks with his ancient computer.

The young associate sat down his box of supplies and pondered for a moment, running over the stock and features of the chairs in his head. “We do have a few models made for extended use. Let me show them to you.”

Aziraphale followed the boy to a tall black and white chair made of weird shape and a concave back. A small pillow was sewn into the headrest and a small brace was around the mid back, looking like additional support. “Oh my, I’ve never seen a chair like this.”

“Yeah, this is technically a gaming chair. It’s made for people who play video games for extended hours at a time or for a living on like Twitch or something.” _What on Earth is a Twitch? I need to remember to ask Crowley about that later_, Aziraphale made a mental note and focused back on the associate who was still rambling about the aesthetics and features of the chair.

“I see. Do you have anything more with a bookshop or desk aesthetic in mind? Something with brown leather perhaps?” Aziraphale did enjoy brown leather and fabric. One look at his outfit told everyone that. The associate merely shrugged and took a few steps over to the right where a mid-tier brown shiny leather chair sat. It had an arched back, mid range arm rests with pads on them, and a short bottom for people with short legs, just like Aziraphale had. It was practically made for him. “Can I sit in it?” Aziraphale looked over at the boy excitedly who merely nodded in a bored fashion.

Sitting in the chair was like sitting on a cloud. The bottom was cushioned extremely well. The arch support in the back conformed to Aziraphale’s spine almost perfectly. The head area was a little tiled forward to offer neck support for when you leaned back. It was amazing compared to was Aziraphale had been sitting in for the past twenty years.

“This is perfect! I’ll take it!” At this point, Aziraphale didn’t really consider the cost. He just knew his back was screaming at him for something with some damn support instead of the cracking plastic mess that was his old chair.

“Very nice choice! Do you have some more shopping to do or should I take one to the front now?” The young man took out his phone and snapped a picture of the label hanging off of the arm rest to find it in the back.

“Oh, yes, I do have some more shopping to do actually. Can you just leave it up at the front for me? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Of course, what name will it be under?”

“Aziraphale, if you don’t mind.” He quickly spelt his name out of the young man and watched him jog off to the back of the store. Hopefully to pick up his new chair. Aziraphale was actually excited for once. He just bought himself his first piece of business enhancing equipment! It was a step in a new direction for the A.Z. Fell Bookstore!

Wandering off from the chairs, Aziraphale started looking for the desktop section, mainly looking for Crowley. Reaching out his Angel aura, Aziraphale swept the entire store searching for his demonic friend. Feeling a pulse of demonic energy wrap around his own tether, Aziraphale followed the tether which only felt to pull him in closer. It was warm and inviting, much like the demon himself who smelled like coffee, cigarettes, and his cologne (which he thought covered up the smell in his clothes, it didn’t). 

Crowley’s aura used to be much sharper in the olden times before their arrangement. It used to be hot and painful, wrapping itself around Aziraphale’s neck like a snake, choking him. It almost used to burn like he thought hellfire would feel. However, as the years passed and the two got to know each other better, the more the aura rounded out and became calmer, cooler, and most importantly, more inviting to Aziraphale. Now it was a feeling Aziraphale could seek out for comfort and knowledge, guidance even on some things. It could also be used to find his friend when the asshole wandered off in the middle of the store and left Aziraphale by himself.

Following the tether, Aziraphale was able to wind his way through the medium sized store and found Crowley chattering excitedly with a rather frightened looking store associate. Crowley must have loosened his grip on his demonic aura while talking about computers (a subject he was surprising passionate about in recent years). Aziraphale also knew he had a hard time controlling his aura after larger meals and when denied a post-lunch smoke. The poor associate must have been scared out of his wits by now with an overwhelming sense of dread and fear out of nowhere. 

Aziraphale was unfortunate enough to experience the full force of Crowley’s demonic aura once, and thankfully only once. It was just after Crowley had asked for the bottle of holy water for the first time and the resulting anger Crowley felt after he was not only denied but insulted had the unfortunate side effect of unleashing his aura at full capacity, hitting Aziraphale in the back with it as he walked away. He had never felt a more pressing panic in his entire lifetime and hopefully never would again. Thankfully, he was immune to Crowley’s lower level auras and could only feel their effects when Crowley made an effort for Aziraphale to be hurt by it.

“Crowley, dear. There you are. I lost you for a minute.” Aziraphale came teetering up to the two, letting his aura cover the associate in a blanket of warmth and love. The associate took a step back in emotional whiplash, giving Aziraphale the chance to learn over and whisper in Crowley’s ear, “You aura, you’re traumatizing the poor worker boy. Reel in it.” Crowley had a look of confusion on his face for a split second before looking like a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Sorry Angel, it gets away from me sometimes.” With a forced concentration, Crowley reeled in his emotional tethers which were taking over a good area of the computer section by now. No wonder no one else had come to look at them; anytime they got close they were thrown onto the edge of a panic attack. The associate blinked a few times as the dread and panic immediately faded and Aziraphale’s healing aura took over soothing his nerves.

“An-an-anyway, as I was saying. I think the all-in-one model would better serve your friend’s needs and it would negate needing to buy extra parts like a monitor and speakers. You would just need a new keyboard and mouse, drastically reducing your costs.”

“You know what, you have a point. I think it would be better for him. Can you show me some small business models of an all-in-one set?” Crowley seemed contemplative about the entire thing but swayed by what the associate said.

“Of course, they are rare to have models built specifically for small businesses but they do exist. We have three in stock right now. If you’ll follow me to the next isle where we keep our all-in-ones.” The associate led both Crowley and Aziraphale down to the next isle and started rattling confidently about the differences between the three models. Crowley nodded along thoughtfully and asked questions when the opportunities presented themselves. It was all above Aziraphale’s head by a long shot. He just stood there and nodded along, looking up to Crowley whenever the associate asked him a question about his preferences or what kind of hardware he preferred. It was all rather embarrassing to be this far out of his element.

“I’m sorry to say, and I really do appreciate you trying to involve me in this, but the last computer I purchased was in the 1980s so I’m afraid I’m a little out of date on what should be in one of these new fangled devices these days so you should probably be talking to my friend about what you think I need. He’s the one who’s going to be teaching me all of these new things, anyway.” Aziraphale finally broke down after the fourth question punted his way. It almost pained him to admit his lack of knowledge out loud. He was a bookstore owner for Heaven’s sake! It was his job to be knowledgeable but unfortunately, when it came to computers, he let his knowledge slip over the past nearly forty years.

“And it was still running?!” The associate’s jaw dropped practically to the floor in amazement.

“By a few miracles, yes it was. But we figured it was finally time to upgrade. The poor thing has been giving me problems the past decade or so. Hard to say goodbye to it.”

“C’mon Angel, it won’t be too bad. A bit of a learning curve but we’ll get through it.” Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. Aziraphale looked up at him with a soft smile on his face and clasped his hands together.

“Thank you dear, it means a lot to have your help.” Aziraphale gave a soft sigh and leaned into the shoulder grab a bit, comforted by his friend. The associate watched the scene between the two and only had one thought on his mind, friends, right. _Either they’re married or two of the densest and gayest motherfuckers I have ever met in my life and I’m not seeing any rings_. Still, he had a job to do regardless of his customer’s sexual orientation and quite frankly, he wasn’t paid enough to care.

“So, I’m sensing you leaning toward option two and I think it would be a good fit for the business. It was the extra processing speed you’re looking for and a solid state drive with fast wake-up time to make sure it’s ready to go as soon as you boot it up or unlock it. Tons of security features to keep your information safe from prying eyes and all of that. Would you like to get it or keep going over your options?” The associate’s voice shook Crowley from being lost in Aziraphale’s smile and eyes.

“Hm? Yeah. Oh, yeah, I think option two is going to be the best for my friend here. We’ll take it.” Crowley mentally chided himself for acting like a love struck fool in the middle of a public store and refocused on the task at hand. “Decent price too. I think it’ll be perfect for what we need. Can you also throw in one of those new ergonomic keyboards and mice? They were on display on aisle six. Now, software. We’re looking for a good inventory software and from what I was able to research we really have two options: Ordoro and Cin7. Can you tell me a little bit more about them?”

“Ah, two of our best sellers. From what I’ve been told by customers who’ve returned to the store, Ordoro is good for a really user friendly software but lacks customer support. I’ve heard the layout and customization is out of this world good. Cin7 isn’t quite as intuitive and easily usable but has a really great team behind them if you ever run into problems so it’s sort of a double edged sword you’re looking at.”

“What do you think, Aziraphale? User friendly or good customer support? You’re the one using the software.” Crowley turned to Aziraphale and put him on the spot, which Aziraphale really hated.

“Well, that’s a tough question. I would say good customer support. I’m going to need someone I can call and ask questions and get the help I need navigating the software.” Aziraphale had to ponder on it for a bit but his gut seemed happy with his decision, so he was content with it as well.

“Cin7 is it. We’ll also need a copy of ZohoBooks for his accounting needs.”

“Of course, let me grab the purchase codes for those and I’ll meet you up front with your computer as well.” The associate politely excused himself and wandered towards the back of the store.

“See Angel, this isn’t so bad.” Crowley took a toothpick out from his jacket pocket and started chewing on the ends to keep his craving under control.

“It’s not the purchase I’m worried about Crowley, it’s the learning on how to use it.” Aziraphale felt fairly bad for Crowley, an avid smoker of nearly thirty years and here he was chewing on a toothpick to keep his cravings under control because it made Aziraphale uncomfortable to be around smoke. He did mention quitting about five years ago, and he had tapered down his smoking a lot, Aziraphale was very proud of that, but apparently it wasn’t going as fast as Crowley hoped for because he said he wanted to quit completely within two years. Maybe Aziraphale should get him a gift to thank him for putting up with helping with the renovations and suffering through the horrible cravings to make sure he was getting the best for his shop. It was something to think about. The other thing to think about was what on Earth you got a demon as a gift.

“You learn quick Angel, it won’t be as bad as you think. Maybe a few weeks. We’ll keep your old computer running until we get you completely moved over if it makes you feel better.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Oh, that would help a lot. That way I can still do my accounting and inventory digitally until we get the new system set up.”

“I thought you might like that idea. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re too uncomfortable with.” Crowley flipped the toothpick around in his mouth and started gnawing on the other end, clearly unaware of the dark blush which took over Aziraphale’s face after he said that.

“I-um-I’m okay with this but uh, it helps to be able to take things slowly and get used to things, you know?” Aziraphale turned around to hide his face while the blush faded. He didn’t know why that particular statement struck him as hard as it did; actually he did, but he didn’t want to push his feelings for Crowley onto the demon itself out of fear of them not being reciprocated. 

Crowley, in the meantime, was still lost in his own little world while chewing on his toothpick. He was mentally going over how to set up the new system on Aziraphale’s tiny yet long front desk. Would he need to run new cable? Did Aziraphale even have a network cable? Would he also need to buy a wifi router? Should he pick one up now just in case? He would hate to have to drive back up here for just that. Did this new system even have built-in wifi? That was probably something worth checking actually before they left. Crowley started puttering around the display case and reading over specs while Aziraphale was having his own internal emotional turmoil just a few feet away, both completely oblivious to the other.

“Right, got the computer and accessories and software codes for you and Mr. Aziraphale. I was also told you had picked out a computer chair? I’ve got that on the dolly for you as well. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the front registers.” The associate was back with a trolley cart full of large-ish boxes and two plastic cards hanging out of a hi-vis vest pocket. The front one had a green swirly logo on it and Aziraphale could barely make out the number 7 on the card.

Both the demon and the angel followed the young associate to the registers where a young female cashier rang up everything and gave a staggering four digit total along with some odd cents attached to the end. Aziraphale reluctantly ran his (relatively new) business credit card and made a point to save the receipt for his tax deductions early next year.

“Ouch Angel, gotta admit, that one kind of hurt.” Crowley made the passing comment as he and Aziraphale walked out the front doors and to the Bentley, followed by two associated pushing the cart full of their new electronic toys behind them. 

“Yes, well, it’ll all be worth it in the end, I hope. At least I have the credit line to fall back on because Heaven knows I lack that sort of cash on me at the moment.” Aziraphale grumbled to himself as the associates helped load the boxes into the back of Crowley’s Bentley.

“Speaking of which, when did you get a business credit card?”

“Oh, about a few weeks ago when I saw things were going south with Head Office. I had a feeling they weren’t going to be as gracious with me after you know what happened. Provided we succeeded, of course. Which we did.” Aziraphale was careful to be vague around the humans around them who had no idea about their true nature and jobs among society. “So I thought I would take one out just in case something happened and I needed the cash to keep my doors open.”

“Smart move, Angel. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Crowley threw his toothpick in the general direction of the trash can by the door, clearly uncaring if he hit it or not.

“Yes, well, I’m not completely helpless Crowley. I do try and stay a few steps ahead of my adversaries.” He gave Crowley a sly smile and thanked the two associates after they closed Crowley’s trunk with a satisfying thunk.

“Speaking of staying ahead, ready to get all this stuff back to the shop?” Crowley pulled his car door open and fell into his seat. Aziraphale still had yet to see why he couldn’t just sit in it like a normal person. He knew the seats were low but they weren’t that low.

Lowering himself into the practically bucket seats, Aziraphale closed his door and sat patiently while Crowley dug through his myraid CD’s and picked out something that hadn’t turned into a Queen album yet. At first, Aziraphale didn’t believe Crowley when he told them anything that stayed in the car longer than a fortnight turned into a Best of Queen album but was quickly corrected when he tried to play a classical music disk and heard Freddy Mercury belt out Another Bites the Dust with Chekhovsky in the background. It was then he realized the car had taken on part of Crowley’s demonic aura and turned into a vehicle of Satan. Still got good milage, though that was mostly the work of Crowley who forced it to run without petrol.

“Can’t find anything?” Aziraphale leaned over after a few minutes and peeked at Crowley’s collection of CD cases he was flipping through.

“Unfortunately not, my latest CD finally hit the fourteen day mark two days ago so it’s now a Queen album. Ugh, I really need to get a usb cable for the car so I can play music off of my phone. I’m hoping the car hasn’t had time to take modern technology into account yet.” Crowley looked up and out of the windshield with a resting bitch face, “I’m going to be very pissed if it has.”

“It’s only a few minute drive back to the shop. I think we can live with the radio until then.”

“Ugh, fine. I was just hoping for something new. The radio only plays Queen as well.” Crowley flipped onto a random station and Freddy Mercury greeted them with the ballad chords of “Somebody to Love”. Sometimes Aziraphale thought the car had a mind of its own with the songs it picked.

The drive back took ten minutes, just enough time to cycle through three songs. Next time Aziraphale was going to listen to Crowley and let him sort through his CD’s because bebop music was not his thing, no matter how classic Crowley claimed it was. Pulling illegally to park beside the shop, both the angel and the demon exited the car and walked to the front door.

“So Angel, you don’t happen to have a cart in your shop do you? These things are kind of heavy.” Aziraphale looked up from where he was unlocking his front door and cocked his head to the side.

“I have a few book carts but I’m not sure they’re meant for holding something that heavy. Or if they would even fit on the cart.” Aziraphale walked over and took in the sheer size of the boxes filling Crowley’s trunk and suddenly got nervous. He was a stout lad but the heaviest thing he had picked up in the past hundred or so years was his flaming sword (which he reluctantly gave back at the end of Armgeddon’t). He wasn’t sure if he had the muscle strength to carry in a couple of boxes weighing thirty to forty pounds a piece. Maybe if he got the book cart and some rope and maybe some tape and then- it was then that the obvious hit him like a ton of bricks: he could just miracle a damn cart inside the shop. “Give me a moment. I do have a cart, actually. Let me go get it.” Crowley just smirked at him. His damn facial expressions gave his whole trail of thought away. He forget he could miracle objects into existence. _Poor Angel, I worry about him sometimes_, Crowley snirked at himself and leaned against the Bentley, another toothpick making its way towards his mouth.

Aziraphale walked into his back room, made sure he was alone, and miracled himself a dolly cart in. He stood there, debating on if he needed a bigger cart, and settled on the fact he could miracle another one in if the dolly didn’t suffice enough. Walking back outside, he saw Crowley popping his trunk open pulling the boxes towards the edge of the car.

“Forgot I had it. It was stored away.” Aziraphale was a bad liar if Crowley saw one. The way he darted his eyes away, the way he hunched his shoulders, they were all dead giveaways.

“Sure Angel, now help me load this thing onto the dolly.” Crowley teetered the huge computer box on the edge of the trunk and with Aziraphale’s help, managed to carefully lower it down onto the small bar at the bottom of the device. “One thing at a time, I don’t want that computer crushed under the weight of the new chair.” Crowley leaned back in and balanced the new mice and keyboard box on top of the computer box before giving it a few pats and leaned back into the truck to grapple the computer chair box. Aziraphale nodded and hurried the computer inside the shop, placing the box just behind his check-out desk. He caught the old system and old computer chair just out of the corner of his eye and felt mournful for a moment. This may have seemed like a small change in the grand scheme of things but Aziraphale had been operating on this equipment for nearly forty years. It was familiar to him, it was homey, and now he was changing it all. And yet, he was slightly giddy for the changes. It was something new and unique, like a breath of fresh air someone had finally let into the stuffy shop. He was torn between the two emotions. “Angel? Where’d you go? I need help getting this chair out of my car before I get a ticket!”

Aziraphale was shocked out of his thoughts and hurried back outside to Crowley who was balancing the even heavier box of his new computer chair on the edge of his trunk floor. “Well c’mon, help me load this thing and get it in the shop.” Aziraphale rushed over with the dolly and grabbed half of the box, carefully lowering it down to the floor of the device and tilted it back until he could roll it into the shop.

“I think the only thing left are the two code cards. Can you grab them from my seat in the car after you park?” Aziraphale tried to peek around the box but it was no good, the damn thing was too wide to be able to see Crowley as he backed up.

“I’ve got you, Angel. I’ll be in in a minute.” Crowley’s voice faded as he walked back to the car and Aziraphale heard the Bentley fire up and rapidly exit the area. Struggling with the wide load, Aziraphale squeezed the box in through the just big enough doorway and let go of the dolly just in front of his check-out desk. It was starting to get a little crowded in the area with two giant boxes taking up half the space in front of and behind the long desk. Huffing, he walked to his old computer chair and had a sit. He figured he should wait on Crowley. Aziraphale certainly had no idea on how to put together any of this stuff. He was still in shock that he bought the things in the first place! Now, he was around $1,300 in the hole on a brand new credit card and he had no idea how to use or assemble the damn things. 

Rubbing his temples, Aziraphale made the decision to get up and make some cocoa while he waited on Crowley to find a parking spot nearby. There was no way he had the mental or emotional stamina to tackle the chair or computer on his own. He might as well make some coffee for Crowley as well. He did keep an old coffee maker and coffee powder around just for that purpose. It was going to be a long afternoon, after all.


	6. In Which a Demon Assembles Office Hardware with the Assistance of an Angel

Crowley struggled but eventually found parking about a block away in front of a shopping mall of small businesses.. He could have miracled a spot in but with so many witnesses around, it would have been a hefty gamble. Plus, he used the time to think about the afternoon ahead: assembling a computer and computer chair with Aziraphale along with installing some new software for his business needs. All in all, it should be shaping up to be a fun afternoon if not slightly stressful. Crowley knew Aziraphale didn’t take well to change. Much like his clothing, he didn’t move with the times until the times were about two hundred years past their due date. Crowley felt thankful Aziraphale moved with the times at all.

Slipping out of his Bentley, Crowley fed the parking meter with some miracled coins in his pocket and paid for the next six hours of parking. Surely he should be out of the bookshop by then. From there, he power walked down to the shop and listened to the dainty charm of the bell above his head. It was a sound he learned to love over the past hundred years. It usually meant Aziraphale would be by soon to see who come in.

The first thing Crowley smelled was the sweet smell of fresh hot cocoa, about seven hours too early for Aziraphale’s daily cocoa ritual. The next thing he smelled was the richness of fresh coffee, made from expensive Brazilian beans and a hint of nutmeg. Let no one say Crowley didn’t know his coffee after three hundred years of regular drinking.

“I made us some drinks for the afternoon ahead. I figured we would need them with the tasks in front of us. Also, they make a nice mid-afternoon pickmeup.”

“Oh, thanks.” Crowley took the mug offered to him. It was a plain black mug with the bookshop’s logo on it in a flowing white text. It certainly wasn’t his devil cup but it would do while they worked through this mess together. The rich smell of the coffee filled his nose in a calming wave of roasted beans and flavor enhancers. He hesitantly took a small sip and braced for the worst, only to be mildly impressed by the richness of the flavor.

“I try and keep some good coffee beans around in case you ever wanted something to drink. I will admit though, I’m not the level of coffee enthusiast you are. I hope it tastes good.”

“It’s good, Angel. Not bad at all.” Crowley took another sip, savoring the rich flavors hitting his palette. “What kind of beans are they?”

“I’m not too sure. I have the bag in the back of the shop by the coffee maker. I want to say Brazillian. And yes, I did clean it out before I made your cup. You know how infrequently it gets used.” Aziraphale waved off any more questions and headed for the front of the shop. Crowley mulled on the flavors and decided to grab a look at the bag before he left. He needed more of this coffee in his life. Granted, he was used to instant coffee K Cups so it’s not like he was living in the lap of luxury coffee but it was nice to have slow roasted beans every now and then. He was going to have to dig out his coffee press and Nespresso machine when he got home and spend some time making fresh coffee.

“So, what are we starting with?” Crowley followed Aziraphale to the front of the shop and stood beside him, looking between the various boxes littering his front desk area.

“I would say the computer chair so we have something comfortable to sit in while we get the computer going but that’s just a personal opinion.”

“Seems like a good option to me. I’ll get a knife to open the box.” Crowley placed his mug on the countertop and stalked his way towards the back of the shop. Aziraphale always kept a few box blades littered around for the cellophane on his book shipments. The real question was where was the last place he left them? Looking around the back room, he could find a lot of bills and wine littering the shelves and tables but nothing knife shaped. More bills and more wine glasses was the only thing he could find across the countertops as well. He started opening the drawers on the cabinets and finally came across a pair of scissors. They would do, he supposed.

Aziraphale took a seat on his old computer chair and started picking at the packaging tape with his fingernails, trying to open the box. Needless to say, he wasn’t getting very far. Plus, using miracles in the open while his shop was open was not something he wanted to get caught doing and having to explain away (again. He barely got away with it last time).

“Didn’t find the box knife but I did find some scissors. They should work.” Crowley crouched down beside the box and quickly cut through all of the tape once he shooed away Aziraphale’s prying hands. Several plastic bands also encircled the box which were quickly cut open and disposed of in a pile on the other side of the desk.

Popping the top of the box open, Crowley tipped the box on its side with Aziraphale’s help and pulled the chair out while Aziraphale held onto the box. The smell of fresh leather and plastic immediately encapsulated the area as the chair was finally able to breathe.

“It was a very lovely chair in the store. I hope it’s just as good assembled in my office.” Azriraphale started digging out the various base parts of the box as he chattered away. Crowley walked over to his coffee and took another few sips as Aziraphale continued talking about the chair, Crowley giving small “mmhmms” and “sounds great” along the way.

With all the parts out, the two poured over the directions, taking their time to make sure the parts fit together and consistently misplacing the tiny tools that came with the set. It wasn’t without its challenges. The wheels didn’t want to stay in their pegs (turns out you just had to press them in really hard). The small wrench they were using for the bolts kept disappearing (and no, fingers were not a good enough replacement for screw tightness). Finally, they installed the lifting mechanism upside down not once, but twice. Still, by the time everything was said and done, the chair looked pretty good sitting behind Aziraphale’s desk. It looked way better than the cracked and decaying chair sitting next to it, at least. And all it took was an forty-five minutes of their day.

“Well go on then, take it for a spin. Tell me what you think and make sure it’ll hold you.”

“Do you not think it will?

“Angel, after everything we just went through with the damn thing, I’m not sure how sturdy it is. Only one way to find out. Now, sit.” Crowley pointed at the chair with determination as Aziraphale eased his way over and slowly sat down. The chair gave a cursory groan as a new weight settled into it but ultimately sunk and held the angel. He gave a few spins and rolled around the trash left behind from the instillation but ultimately seemed happy about the chair.

“It seems to be holding just fine, dear. I think we did an okay job with it.” Aziraphale pulled on the various levers underneath his seat and started setting the height and leanback to his preferences. “I love the customization on the chair and the back holds me just right. This should greatly reduce my back pain on Sundays when I do my books and inventory.”

“Hopefully your new inventory and booking software should greatly reduce the time you spend on it as well. At least, once you get used to it.” Crowley miracled his coffee hot again and took a few more sips. Granted, he was a demon and didn’t really need the coffee but it was a good taste regardless.

“That as well. I’m hoping all of this change is for the better.” Aziraphale took another spin in the chair before settling in at his old computer.

“It will be. Now don’t get too comfortable there. We still have a computer to install as well.”

“Oh, fine.” Aziraphale stood up from his chair and tucked it in under the desk. A bit bratty but Crowley knew this was something Aziraphale was dreading and could overlook his petulant behavior, for now anyway. Crowley took a final swig of coffee and dragged himself over to the computer box Aziraphale was hovering over with a pair of scissors.

“Well, you gonna open it or not?” Crowley put his hand on his hip and stared down Aziraphale who looked fairly terrified.

“Well, see, I don’t want to damage it by digging too far into the box. I did just pay a small fortune for this set-up.”

“You’re not going to damage it, angel. It’s under a lot of padding to keep it safe. Just carefully cut across the center of the tape and-” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and forced it to run the blade of the scissors just across the top of the tape, opening the box up to unpack. “There. Now we can open the box.” Aziraphale’s face was a deep crimson red as he stood there. The chilliness of Crowley’s hand still lingered across his own warm one.

“Of- of course. How silly of me.” Aziraphale placed his hand over the one Crowley held and gave it a small squeeze to chase away the chill. “Now we unpack it from the box?”

“Yep.” Crowley seemed oblivious to Aziraphale’s emotional constraint but in reality, he was savoring every bit of it. Much like an apex predator, Crowley loved the chase of pretty much anything. A challenge was something he was seldom allowed beyond the ones given to him by Head Office and those were never any fun. They were all about causing the most evil. But Crowley lived for the benign forms of frustration and chaos, nothing like taking down a flock of priests, it was too old school for him to really get interested in. However, flustering his Angel with subtle touches (which he also enjoyed) and whisperings into his ear was something that amused Crowley to no end. 

He knew Aziraphale probably didn’t harbor any true romantic feelings for him. He just happened to know from six thousand years of Aziraphale describing Heaven that he was incredibly attention and touched starved and giving some either one or either of those forms of attention would drive him wild (or shy, depending on his mood). It was sort of evil to play with his friend like that, he would admit, but it also one of the few ways he could get close to angel in more ways than just emotionally. Crowley may have been a love-struck fool but he wasn’t stupid. He was just smart enough to manipulate the situation to benefit himself in some capacity which made him not only smart but dangerous as a demon.

Crowley powered through his Angel’s flusterment and pulled the styrofoam wrapped computer out of the box, kicking the box towards the growing pile of trash from the chair. The edges of the all-in-system were covered in styrofoam corners, giving it a three inch buffer from outside sources while plastic covered the rest of the open space.

“See Angel, told you it was protected. Your scissors wouldn’t have done anything.” Crowley took off the corner pieces and ripped off the plastic before carefully setting the computer right side up on the floor.

“I should trust you more. I’m just so out of date with technology that when I bought my last computer they just shoved it in a box, no protection. I didn’t want to scratch this one like I did the last one.” Aziraphale’s face had mostly returned to normal over the past few minutes, enough to pass for a light blush and not give away his flustered feelings to the entire world.

“No, they package things pretty solid these days. Now help me pick and clear a spot where you want it to go in the meantime. We can move it after you get used to using it to where your old computer is.” Aziraphale huffed at the demand but complied nonetheless. Picking a matching spot on the opposite side of the desk area, Aziraphale shuffled his paperwork to the sides and moved his free floating books to the back book shelf where he kept his rare first editions. It would be a temporary home until he could clear off some shelf space on the sales floor.

“Here should suffice. That was I have a working computer on each side of the back entrance. Is the spot I cleared big enough?”

“A little more, Angel. It’s a pretty wide computer. They use wide monitors nowadays, not square ones.” Aziraphale took back to the countertop and cleared another foot on each side of the clean area he just made. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Now help me lift it up and carry it over. I don’t want to risk dropping it with it being this heavy. I’ll take care of the rest of setting it up.” Aziraphale nodded and picked up half of the computer while Crowley carried the other half. They reached the desk and carefully sat the admittedly heavy system down. Aziraphale had to admit the sleek silver system looked fairly spiffy on his desk surrounded by various business paperwork. It made him feel slightly accomplished like a real businessman, which he was of course, but now he was a technologically capable businessman! Or he would be once he learned how to use the thing. It was still progress in his mind.

“Fantastic, now for the fun part: getting the damn thing running. I’ve got it from here, Angel. You can get back to your shop.” Crowley threw himself into the new computer chair and rolled over to the new system along with the new keyboard and mouse box. “Shouldn’t take me more than a few hours. Can you hand me my coffee by the way? I’m going to be planted here for a bit.” Aziraphale handed Crowley his coffee which Crowley sipped on and then sat under the monitor before tearing into the box in his lap.

Aziraphale felt awkward at this. He felt like he should be involved more in the process. He knew he was technologically illiterate to a slight degree but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help in some way. Still, Crowley seemed confident in what he was doing so he probably knew what was going on more than Aziraphale did.

“How does one go about setting up a computer by the way? For future reference, of course.” Aziraphale grabbed his own cocoa, miracled it hot again, and started sipping on it. Tasty!

“Well, for one I’m going to install your auxiliaries like your mouse and keyboard. Next you gotta get your internet set-up so I’m going to need to run you an Ethernet cable under your desk from wherever your line drop is. Hopefully it’s close by. Next, I’m going to turn the computer on and set up your settings and general profile. Finally, I’m going to download and install your new business software and get that going. After that, it’s all yours.”

“I see. It sounds like a lot.” Most of that went right over Aziraphale’s head, which did irritate him to a mild degree.

“It’s not too much. Pretty standard with any new desktop.” Crowley was messing around with the new funky looking in-turned keyboard and curved in mouse. The word “ergonomic” read across the box in big bold letters. Aziraphale saw himself returning that sooner rather than later due to being unable to retrain himself how to type on it. He barely taught himself on the rectangle keyboard. This one looked more like the crevice of a peach. 

Crowley’s side eye caught Aziraphale staring down the keyboard as it sat on the edge of the counter. “I see you eyeing this keyboard like it’s your mortal enemy. Don’t worry, Angel. It’s easier to learn to type on than you think. I use the same one at my apartment. Just give it a few weeks.” Crowley slipped the USB Receiver into the side of the computer and placed the keyboard and mouse on the very edge of the shelf space. There really wasn’t enough room on this counter for everything, but hey, it’s all he had to work with.

Aziraphale watched Crowley from behind as he fiddled about with the new computer, trying to take in as much information as he could. The way Crowley seemed to manage everything like it was second nature was fascinating to Aziraphale. The way he fiddled with the cords, the way he fluttered the mouse about, even the way he huffed when the new computer didn’t do what he wanted it to do was all so interesting. Of course, it all moved too fast for Aziraphale to really be able to take all of it in. He caught bits and pieces as he observed but that was it: bits and pieces. Nothing that could really teach him anything about the new system. Something something Cortana something something Skype something something Microsoft Office- it was a lot going on.

The bell above the front door chimed as a group of three seminary students walked through the door in their student priest outfits. Aziraphale muttered to Crowley that he would be right back and left the demon to his work. Crowley could hear Aziraphale chatter to the young men about what they were looking for and how he could help. It was all standard retail talk, which he quickly tuned out for his own sanity.

Crowley spent the next half hour messing with the Ethernet cord and internet connection, which would not stay up for some reason. Unfortunately, with registration for new computers being digital, an internet connection was required to get the stupid thing running. Crowley eventually found the issue to be the cord itself, which was so old it was fraying near the drop port. Peeking his head up and finding Aziraphale and the group of students busy near the religious analysis sections, Crowley quietly miracled in another high speed Ethernet cable and quickly swapped it out for the old fraying one. He threw the old one in the trash pile (which was quickly accumulating into a small mountain) and hefted himself back into the computer chair.

The rest of the registration went smooth with Crowley finally able to get through setting up all of the software necessary to run the computer and was finally able to move onto downloading the new business software. Aziraphale was finally finishing up with the students who were all buying several thick books a piece, probably for some kind of report. Crowley always noticed an uptick this time of the year with seminary students doing essays on other forms of trans-atlantic Christianity. The total was a hefty sum for each of them but the students paid and thanked Aziraphale as they exited the shop.

“Well, that’s a nice way to start an evening.” Crowley leaned back in the chair and gazed over at Aziraphale as he recorded the sale in his print ledger.

“Indeed. Can’t say I’m upset by giving those particular books away. They’ve been on my shelf for nearly a decade. I’m glad to see someone finally found a use for them because Heaven knows I was never going to read them.” Aziraphale finished recording the sale of the seven books and tossed the fountain pen back into his pen cup. He hoped it wouldn’t leak again.

“You? Not read a book? I’m shocked.” Crowley feigned aghastment and leaned back in the chair for good measure.

“Yes, yes, laugh it up. Surprisingly, when you’re a holy angel of the Lord, you don’t necessarily need a book to explain to you what you already inherently know. That would be like you keeping textbooks on what the humans think hell is supposed to be like.”

“I actually do. I find it funny what the humans come up with. Surprisingly, they’re more devious in their imaginations of hell than what it’s actually like.” Aziraphale didn’t have a response to that. He never took Crowley to go out and purchase a book just to read it for fun. He usually kept himself occupied with small mischiefs around London, leaving him no time to read. Unless, of course, Aziraphale pushed him to read a specific book.

“Regardless, that gives me a nice sale for the day and we still have about three hours to go before closing. Hopefully we’ll see some more people wander through. In the meantime, what are you working on now? Did you get the computer registered with that Cortana lady?” Aziraphale wandered back behind Crowley and leaned towards the computer screen.

“I finally did after the fourth attempt. Your internet cord was practically destroyed after twenty years of use. I had to swap it out.”

“I don’t remember buying another cord at the computer store. You didn’t miracle it in with people in my shop did you?!” Crowley merely shrugged and went back to scrolling on his phone which he was happily doing before Aziraphale came over and interrupted him. “Crowley! Someone could have seen!”

“I checked before I did it! You were all lost in the bookshelves. Trust me, no one saw. It’s all fine and the cord is swapped out.” Crowley tossed his phone the few inches to the desk, sensing Aziraphale wasn’t going to give up this argument anytime soon.

“That’s not the point. We had an agreement we wouldn’t perform miracles in front of humans.”

“You performed several miracles in front of Anathema after I hit her with my car!”

“I thought she was unconscious!” The two stalemated with Aziraphale taking a few steps back to rub his face in frustration. Crowley just huffed and propped his leg up against the counter and started bouncing it. “The point being - We need to be careful with the miracles we perform, especially with neither of us having a Head Office to back them up in case of discorporation. I barely got back on Earth last time after Shadwell backed me up into the summoning circle.” Crowley cringed at the statement. He remembered very vividly the after effects of that mishap: the fire, the ghost of Aziraphale speaking to him, Armageddon, the list went on.

Crowley sat there for a moment, stewing in the moment before murmuring, “Point taken. Fine, I’ll be more careful next time.” He knew Aziraphale was just looking out for the both of them but sometimes it just felt so stifling. He didn’t need a babysitter monitoring his miracle usage, he most likely already had his own Head Office doing that. In fact, it was almost guaranteed his Head Office was doing that with the current state of affairs between them.

“I just want us to be careful, Crowley. The last thing I want is for something to happen to either one of us that we can’t fix. Okay?” Aziraphale leaned over Crowley and tucked a free floating hair down, a small gesture of affection.

“Yeah, okay.” Crowley looked away, not able to look Aziraphale in the eye. He could handle the flirting, Aziraphale’s blushing, the bickering, but Crowley had yet to be able to handle Aziraphale being soft towards him. It still made him red in the face and bothered; not in a sexual way but in more of a romantic way. 

Hell was never big on relationships of any kind besides the ones that hurt. It was every demon for themselves, no matter the circumstances. You had your job, you did your job, and if you did it well enough, you wouldn’t be threatened or beaten or fed to the hellhounds. Sometimes lower level demons were fed to the hellhounds for fun, if Crowley remembered correctly from Hastur’s second hand bragging. All of this was why he craved Aziraphale’s positive attention but was still so damn afraid of it. He didn’t know when it was going to end and be thrown back into the pits of Hell where he’s suffer another six thousand years of torment. Sometimes he even had nightmares of Aziraphale pushing him down from the Heavens like he was Fallen all over again. He never told Aziraphale about this, of course. It would probably lead to a discussion of why Crowley was dreaming about him in the first place and his feelings were perfectly fine under the lock and key they were kept in, thank you very much.

“Now that we have that out of the way, why don’t I refill your coffee for you while you work on that computer?” It was Aziraphale’s way of apologizing, somewhat. He never did come out and directly say what we meant but he always communicated his intent through small acts. Refilling coffee, holding a door open, making dinner reservations, paying for dinner, they were all ways Aziraphale said I care for you. Crowley had learned this about his angel fairly early on in Rome they first time they had dinner together; Crowley believed it was oysters if he was remembering correctly that far back. His Angel was a foodie, even back then. “Here you go. Nice and hot, be careful.” Aziraphale placed the mug on the edge of the counter table. Crowley was still half bent with his legs crossed and the leg on top bouncing at a rapid rate.

“Thanks, Angel. I’m almost done setting things up. Just finishing downloading the new business software.”

“That Cin7 stuff?”

“And ZohoBooks. One for accounting and one for inventory. It should be a much more reliable way of being able to keep up with your numbers versus trying to keep that ledger around.”

“The ledger isn’t that bad. It’s been accurate for two hundred years now.”

“Yes, but now you only have to input the information once instead of writing it down by hand and then transporting it in the computer. With this, you’ll be able to just type in the book they bought or scan a barcode and it’ll automatically record that for you. Easy stuff.”

“If you say so. I’ll give it a shot if it’ll help this place get back on its feet.” Aziraphale walked back to the front of the checkout counter and took a sip of cocoa.

“It will Angel, it will. You just gotta give it some time. None of this is going to happen overnight.”

“If that’s true, then what is our next step?”

“I would say retaking inventory with your new software. Maybe invest in getting some barcodes on these books so we can hook you up with a scanner so it’ll be easy to check people out. You could type them in by hand but it really just depends on how attached you are to the idea of glue on book covers.

“I’m not attached to the idea at all. In fact, I rather loathe it.”

“Noted.” Crowley nodded his head and mentally took two steps back because the way Aziraphale said that last statement made Crowley stop in his tracks and re-angle his entire thinking about how he was going to go about taking inventory with the Angel. Well, that was nasty, was the only coherent sentence Crowley could manage to think.

“I’m not a Barnes and Nobles knock-off, Crowley. I’m a full independent bookstore that focused on biblical literature and analysis along with a side section in prophecy. My standards are a bit higher than ‘stick a barcode on a book and shove it out the door’. Goodness me.” Azirahphale’s temper started to flare the more he thought about the suggestion. Granted, it was the usual passive-aggressive temper flare Aziraphale was famous for but after six thousand years together, Crowley felt the anger all the same.

“It was just a suggestion, Angel. If you don’t like it then you don’t have to use it. I was just making conversation.” Crowley immediately hopped on the defensive, using his own brand of smarmy tone to protect himself from Aziraphale’s barbed words.

“I know. I know, I just-” Aziraphale sighed, severely frustrated, and waited for a few moments before quietly muttering “I don’t like change.”

“But change is necessary.” Crowley immediately followed up and cut his eyes at Aziraphale. Aziraphale glared back for a few moments before sighing and setting his mug down on the check-out counter.

“I suppose you’re right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

“No one said you had to like it, just that you needed to do it.” Crowley pulled his foot down from the counter and crossed his legs in front of the desk. Aziraphale continued to side eye him as he swished the cocoa around his cup, clearly contemplative about the entire conversation thus far. “Look Angel,” Crowley leaned over and pointed his finger, “I know this is a painful process for you but we’re going to need to work together if we want to get this place running on it’s own. I can’t make these decisions for you but I can be here to help but I can’t do that if you keep pulling this attitude on me like I’m trying to harm your shop. We’re on our side now and we need to start acting like it.”

Aziraphale looked shocked at Crowley’s words. He knew he was being a bit of a pain out of desperation and hurt about the changes but he didn’t think his attitude about the whole thing was that bad. He was just a little grouchy, it was nothing to be that upset about, was it? Still, it probably warranted an apology.

“My apologizes, I didn’t realize I was being that difficult about it. It’s just -” Aziraphale sighed, “It’s just difficult to make all of these changes so suddenly. It feels like just yesterday I was having fun running customers out of my store with flickering lights and today I feel like I’m going to lose everything because I only had three people come in and it’s not enough money to even keep the lights on. I keep wishing that I’m going to wake up and none of this happened and I-” Aziraphale turned around and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep himself from losing it. 

Once he started talking, nearly everything he was keeping inside of him was starting to flow out. All of the hurt, confusion, panic, desperation, it was all sitting in his throat, cracking his voice and causing him to teeter on the edge of a breakdown. He stood there for a few moments before turning back around and continuing, 

“I understand where you’re coming from Crowley and I do apologize for acting out of turn but I’m also asking for a little bit more of your patience while I try and digest everything going on.” Aziraphale paused and seemed to ponder on his thoughts for a moment before continuing, “I’m not someone who’s used to rapid change like you. I’m not someone who really moves with the times or keeps up with what’s going on besides books. I’m not trying to excuse my behavior but I’m asking you to have a little compassion for what’s going on and how all this talk of change scares me.” Aziraphale moved over to Crowley and put his hand on his shoulder, 

“I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me. There’s no way I would be able to do any of this without you, truly! I don’t mean to make your life harder with any of this, it's just really really hard on my end and I’m not sure how to cope with it, Crowley. I’m sort of at a loss, I hate to admit. All I know is everything inside of me is screaming to make it stop and pretend that everything is okay until it isn’t anymore.”

“Avoidance isn’t going to get us anywhere, Angel.” Crowley put his hand over Aziraphale’s on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before standing up. “Look, I know this is hard for you. Truly, I can see it in your face.” Aziraphale’s eyes had glazed over with tears that were trying to fall but he was holding back, “But I also know that we have a very limited amount of time to get all of this done before our accounts go dry. I’m willing to work with you on this for as long as you need me to but I can’t fight for you with you fighting me at every turn it feels like. I need you to be a little more open and discuss things with me more so we can make the decisions best for your business, not our comfort levels, okay?” 

Crowley’s voice was soft but firm, the kind he used when dealing with small children; the kind of voice that said, I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed but we can change things for the better next time. It wasn’t so unlike a parent trying to turn a mistake into a learning opportunity for one of their children. Aziraphale merely nodded and dabbed his watery eyes with his handkerchief. 

“It’s going to be okay, Aziraphale. It’s just going to take some time and a lot of patience from both of us. C’mere.” Crowley pulled him into a quick chaste hug. It was very unlike the demon to do but he couldn’t turn away Aziraphale with the way he was clearly hurting. 

Aziraphale quickly wrapped his arms around Crowley and buried his face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Crowley was deeply taken aback but the action but reminded himself the reason he was doing it in the first place (despite his initial reaction to shove Aziraphale off of him) and rewrapped his arms around the angel and held on for as long as Aziraphale needed. 

Several moments passed as Aziraphale gathered himself mentally (and probably physically) before he pulled away and refused to look Crowley in the eye.

“Thank you for that. I, um, I, uh, got a little emotional there for a moment. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, Angel. Like you said, these are some big changes being made very fast for someone like you. It can be overwhelming. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Or, I will be fine. I think I need a few more moments to clear my head. I’m going to go straighten the shelves.” With that, Aziraphale quickly turned away and practically ran off to the back of the store. It wasn’t like Crowley had never seen the angel upset before so he wasn’t sure why the strong reaction.

Crowley sat himself down in the computer chair behind him, clearly confused on how the afternoon took such an emotional turn since lunch. Still, at least he had the computer to work on to keep his mind off of things until Aziraphale calmed down and came back to the front. It was going to be a long and awkward evening, wasn’t it?


	7. In Which Crowley is the Last to Discover the Obvious

Nearly two hour passed between Aziraphale’s sudden departure after the display of affection and him slowly coming back up to the front counter, looking mildly ashamed. Crowley, in the meantime, had finished setting up the new computer system and had been killing time on his phone, waiting for the Angel to come back and talk things out. 

“You’re still here, I see.” Aziraphale set a stack of books down on the counter, a small redness in his cheeks. 

“Where else would I be, Angel? I wasn’t just going to leave you after that but I knew you needed your space. So I just gave it to you. I had plenty to keep me busy anyway.” Crowley took his feet off of the counter and stood up. 

“Well, thank you.” Azirapahel rubbed the back of his neck, a common trait for when he was feeling stressed, “I’m not normally that way but I guess the stress of what had been going on got to me today. For that, I do apologize.” 

“Oh Angel, when you are going to learn that when I say, “It’s okay”, that I mean it’s okay. Everyone has emotions, even the ones we don’t like to share. You stood by me when I had that meltdown about going to Alpha Centauri, didn’t you?” 

“That was different, Crowley. We were dealing with the literal end of the world.” 

“I don’t see it being much different. They were both times we were under a lot of stress and said some things that we felt we needed to get off of our chest. You stood by me then, I’m standing by you now. It’s what friends do.” Crowley reached out and brushed a small curl off of Aziraphale’s eyebrow and smiled at him. He hoped it was conveying the right message, that he was there for Aziraphale no matter what the angel threw at him. Sure, they may have gotten mad at each other a few times and didn’t speak for a few decades but they always came back to each other. 

Aziraphale gave a small smile and looked down at his books. He had spent the past two hours reorganizing and cleaning his shelves and it did him a world of good mentally, to be able to zone out and process everything that was sitting in his chest and throat. Now, he felt he could move forward with a more positive attitude about the changes in the shop. 

“Well, if that is what friends do then I’m happy to be yours.” Aziraphale finally looked up and locked eyes, or well, his glasses, with Crowley, who smiled warmly back at him. At least Aziraphale was finally willing to look at him, that was a step in the right direction in Crowley’s mind. 

“Glad to hear it. Now, are you feeling any better?” 

“I am feeling better, yes. I guess I just needed to get that stuff off my chest before I could come to terms with what was going on.” Aziraphale placed his hand above his chest and subtly started picking at the area. 

“Don’t pick, Angel. You’ll ruin your jacket.” Crowley pushed away Aziraphale’s hand while using his Nanny Ashtoreth chastising tone. It was a tone that said, 'I'm getting onto you because I care about you but you're still doing something wrong' 

“Oh, sorry.” Aziraphale looked away with a slight redness in his cheeks. Crowley simply sighed internally at his own misstep with an already emotionally fragile Aziraphale and racked his brain for a softer topic to discuss with the angel. 

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow? Do you want to take a short break from the renovations and just run the store as usual or did you want me to come back and start going over the new computer with you?” Probably not as soft of a topic as Crowley could have picked but it’s the one that left his mouth before he could stop it. Aziraphale ducked under him and headed towards the back shelves, “I - I mean if you’re up to it. I - I’d understand if you weren’t.” Crowley quickly backtracked on his words. Sometimes he hated that his mouth had a mind of its own. 

“I think I’m going to be just fine but thank you dear for the offer. I think working on the computer tomorrow would be perfect. The faster I get used to these softwares, the sooner we can move on to other projects.” Aziraphale finished shelving the last of the books and walked over to the computer. Jiggling the mouse a bit, he came face to face with a clean desktop. “Looks complicated.” 

“It’s just Windows 10, Angel. Pretty user friendly when you get down to it.” 

“How simple?” 

“Fairly simple?” Crowley wasn’t really sure what kind of question that was but he felt it was a pretty dumb one. Then again, he also had to remember he had been keeping up with the latest trends in technology since it was a passion of his. Poor Aziraphale had been stuck in the dark ages since the eighties. He probably didn’t even know Internet Explorer wasn’t the default web browser anymore. Hell, he probably didn’t even know was a Google Chrome was. He had a lot to learn in a small amount of time. Maybe a computer class wasn’t that bad of an idea. It would be worth the investment. 

Aziraphale just side eyed him and walked away from the computer, slightly shaking his head. 

“No Angel, c’mon. I’ll run you through some basics. Have a seat.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale by the arm and led him back to the chair. Aziraphale sighed and sat down, carefully trying to match his hand to the new mouse shape. 

“Right, so, internet browsing. We don’t use Internet Explorer anymore.” 

“Really? Why not?” 

“They had a lot of security issues over the years so nobody trusts them anymore. We use Firefox or Google Chrome. I installed Chrome because it has more features.” 

“And is this Chrome more secure? It’ll keep my information safe?” 

“Yes, Angel. Now, see this square at the bottom left hand corner? Click it.” 

The rest of the evening was spent going through the absolute basics. From the start menu to Word to the general idea of internet browsing, Crowley carefully led Aziraphale through all of it. He had a lot of questions, by Satan did he have a lot of questions, but Crowley was constantly reminding himself that at one point in time, he was in the same position, not knowing what anything did. It was only this constant reminder playing in his head that was keeping his demonic temper in check. 

In terms of personal teaching, Crowley was more of a self-teacher. He liked to figure out things in his own time and in his own way; Aziraphale did not have this luxury with a timer on his bank account clicking down with every hour he went without a sale. It was a race against the clock for both of them. 

By the time ten pm rolled around, the lights in the shop were still on, both of their coffee and cocoa cups were stone cold and lost somewhere on the mess that was the checkout counter, and Aziraphale was enraptured by a YouTube video Crowley pulled up of using basic Excel formulas. 

“My, technology has come a long way since the last time I checked in with it.” Aziraphale had carefully been taking notes on what the video had gone over, underlining and circling formulas he found especially useful along with a brief description of what they did. Thankfully he made Crowley teach him how to pause the video to get all of this information. “What is this website called again?” 

“YouTube.” 

“You….tube.” Aziraphale scribbled the name on the corner of the legal notepad he was using. “I see. I’m going to have to watch more videos on this Excel thing. It seems extremely useful.” 

“It is pretty nifty.” Crowley had taken up residence on the cracked chair next to Aziraphale, lost somewhere on a tech forum on his phone, looking for the next big idea he could throw his demonic influence into. _Surely one of these geniuses has to have a good idea, they can’t all be the next Facebook, _Crowley had been internally complaining to himself for the past hour at the lack of ingenuity of all these ideas. Of course no one was going to fund a copycat idea, there was no point in it. 

“And is this YouTube site full of more videos like this? Where I can learn things?” Aziraphale was practically beside himself giddy. 

“Yeah, there’s any kind of video you want.” Crowley hadn’t even bothered to look up from his phone, “Educational, technological, interesting, crafty, funny, let’s plays, anything you could ever want.” 

“What is a let’s play?” 

“It’s where someone or several people play through a video game with usually commentary on it. A lot of people find it an alternative to cable.” 

“I see, and they upload it for free?” 

“Usually.” 

“Fascinating! It must take a lot of work to do all of that for free. They must have a lot of passion for it.” 

“Oh, you can watch it for free but the content creators usually get paid ad revenue and get sponsorships once they get popular.” Crowley stopped and pondered for a moment before muttering, “Well, _if _they get popular. Most don’t.” 

“Oh, well that’s even better! I’m glad they get paid. I would hate to think all of these wonderful people made tutorials for people like me and don’t get any sort of reward for it.” Crowley opted not to chase down that rabbit hole any further than he already had. He wasn’t quite up for explaining the incredibly complicated YouTube partnering and ad revenue system to Aziraphale who barely had a grasp on the internet as a whole. It was better just to leave it where it was, for now at least. 

The bell above the front door chimed, signaling a customer. Crowley looked at his watch, shocked it was already nearly ten-thirty at night. “Angel, you’ve been closed for an hour and a half. Did you lock the front door?” 

“No, I must have been too enraptured in the computer and forgot. Hang on; hello? Can I help you?” Aziraphale jumped up from the chair and rushed to the front. Crowley could barely hear the customer, who sounded older and frazzled. They were looking for some kind of specific book on Christianity history and was told this store specialized in esoteric books on religious history and prophecy. Well, they certainly weren’t wrong. 

“I think I do have a copy or two left of that book you're talking about. Normally I wouldn’t help someone this late after closing but I can’t turn away a man of the cloth.” Crowley immediately perked up at this and lowered his feet and leaned around the corner, now _very _interested in who Aziraphale was dealing with, 

A full frocked priest was following Aziraphale as they walked past the front desk, “Please, don’t mind him. He’s a friend helping me set up my new computer system. We’re finally moving to digital.” Aziraphale motioned to Crowley in passing and both him and the priest gave him a quick smile before hustling to the religious history section. 

The two could be heard chattering from the middle of the store, looking for the specific book the priest was after. Apparently the book was loaned to the student who managed to spill their glass of water on it and soaked the entire thing. It was already old and fragile and just fell apart after that. He had planned to use the book in his sermon on Sunday and needed a replacement copy ASAP. 

“Well, lucky for you, I have two copies left. Do you want one or both?” 

“Please, give me both. I’ll have one for my personal library and one I can stand to loan out.” 

“Of course! Please follow me to the front and we’ll get you checked out.” The two came back to the front with Crowley still keeping an eye on the priest. To be fair, he kept a close eye on anyone who could exorcise him and send him back to hell. Not that he had anything against priests personally, he had dealt with a lot of them in a, ahem, professional capacity, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hang around with them on his “off-hours”. 

Aziraphale rang off the priest’s total (which was a fairly staggering amount but it was two copies of a rare and out of print book on a rare topic) which the priest happily paid and thanked Aziraphale profusely for helping him this late at night and quickly left the store. 

“Well, that was fairly unexpected but it did result in a nice sale!” Aziraphale copied the information to his paper ledger and smiled contently. 

“I’ll admit I’m a little shocked. Good thing you forgot to lock the front door.” Crowley leaned back in his chair and brought his phone back out. 

“Now, where was I? I believe I was looking for another fascinating video on this Excel thing they were talking about.” Aziraphale sat himself back down at the computer and started slowing pecking at the keyboard. 

“The door, Angel? Unless you want to entertain another customer coming in, or worse, a robber.” Crowley flicked his eyes behind his glasses, hoping Aziraphale would follow the motions of his head. 

“Right! Of course, we don’t want anymore late night visitors bothering us.” Aziraphale popped up and jogged toward the door, locking it and switching off the main lights of the lobby. The pale yellow street lights filtered their way in through the open blinds, illuminating the bookcases in an eerie glow. Crowley stood up and stretched as Aziraphale walked his way back, still grinning. Crowley smirked back at him as he passed the Angel on his way to close the blinds. He hadn’t been doing much lately and figured it would help Aziraphale to give him more time to play with his new electronic toy. No more than Crowley started pulling on the blind cords did Aziraphale run back up and start on the other set of windows. 

“Ah right, I suppose I forgot about that. I don’t want them seeing in and seeing us and thinking we’re still open.” 

“I was doing it for you, Angel. I figured you wanted more time for your new computer learning.” Crowley finished up the blinds and tucked in the cords to their hook attached to the side of the window. 

“Oh…. oh! Well, that was very kind of you Crowley!” The words left Aziraphale’s mouth before he could even register them. Crowley immediately side eyed him and hissed. “I mean, very naughty. Very naughty, indeed. Very evil of you, sir demon.” Aziraphale merely smirked as soon as his back was turned and sauntered to his new computer. He knew Crowley hated being called nice as he recalled being a rather _intense _scene where Crowley had forced him against a wall and hissed at him about how he was in fact, _not _nice and was actually _very very evil_ and _mean_. Aziraphale found the whole thing rather cute, actually. He knew Crowley would never actually hurt him, it was just him trying (and rather failing) to establish him dominance. It’s hard to establish your dominance, however, when your opponent knows you’re all bluff and no bite. 

“S’m a demon. S’m not nice.” Crowley muttered to himself as he put away the cords on the other windows. 

“Of course, dear. You’re a big scary demon.” Aziraphale called as he walked back to his computer. There he sat, legal pad in his lap, and was searching through YouTube for more how-to videos when Crowley walked back from the windows only a minute or two later. 

“Well, anyway, it’s getting pretty late don’t you think? I think I’m going to call it a day and head back to my flat.” Crowley grabbed his phone from the counter and stretched his back out. 

“Oh dear, it’s not what I said was it? I do think you are scary for a demon. Your demonic aura is positively -” Aziraphale quickly stood up and walked over to Crowley with an almost panicked look in his eye. 

“Relax Angel, it’s just getting late and this demon has gotten used to his regular kips at night.” Crowley smirked at Aziraphale through his stretch and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. 

“Well, if you’re sure. I suppose I should be getting to bed as well. It is pretty late. I just also don’t want to walk away from these incredibly informative videos.” Aziraphale glanced back at the computer. 

“They’ll be there tomorrow, trust me. Get some rest. We still have a lot more stuff to cover and you haven’t even touched your business software yet.” Aziraphale looked forlorn for a moment but eventually caved, 

“All right. I’ll call it a night. Like you said, it’ll be there tomorrow. It is going to be a long day tomorrow.” Aziraphale picked up his notes and his flip phone which he left next to his mouse and started towards the front door to let Crowley out. Crowley followed him, slightly sad he was leaving even though it was his idea. Aziraphale probably would have let him stay all night provided he kept teaching him computer stuff. 

“Good night, Angel. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Crowley asked as soon as he passed the threshold. He always wanted to have Aziraphale’s permission before forcing his way into his life as per the Arrangement, and well, common decency. 

“Yes Crowley, I will see you tomorrow. I’ll even order us lunch in, if you wish. Maybe I’ll even order online and surprise the both of us!” Aziraphale seemed pleased with his jest. Crowley couldn’t help but smile a little at it. 

“We’ll see where the day takes us. In the meantime, get some rest. I’ll be in around noon, most likely.” Crowley called over his shoulder as he sauntered down the road. It was dark and fairly desolate, leading Crowley’s voice to ricochet off the walls of the surrounding buildings. 

“Be careful going back home! It can be dangerous at dark!” Aziraphale called out before going back inside the shop and locking the door behind him. Clearly he forget who the night was dealing with, mainly one Anthony J Crowley: the embodiment of the nightlife and lord of temptation. Crowley merely scoffed and continued to his car, mentally preparing himself to get cozy back in his apartment at Mayfair. 

Aziraphale locked the door behind him after he called out to Crowley to be careful. On one hand, he truly meant it. He didn’t want to see anything happen to Crowley. On the other hand, it was one of the stupidest things he had said yet given that Crowley practically lived for the night life when working for his Head Office and was the master of temptations of all kinds. The night should be scared of _him_. He was the demon lurking in the shadows, literally. 

Aziraphale merely thumped his own forehead with his palm and headed towards his flat above the shop. He was starting to feel the tired kicking in now that Crowley had left. It was however, nearly eleven at night, even immortal beings started to get a little tired after being awake for nearly fifteen hours. Well, maybe not Gabriel but Gabriel was a freak even among angels. Who turned down sushi? 

Aziraphale made a face at his own internal commentary as he headed towards his bedroom. Throwing his notes on his bed and tossing his phone next to them, Aziraphale opened his closed and picked out a pair of clean pajamas. A light blue set of flannel button ups with a matching hat to keep the heat on his head in during the cold seasons. Eh, he probably didn’t need the hat since it was summer so he left it on the hangar. 

Aziraphale carefully disrobed his current outfit, hanging it back on his usual hangar and slipped into his pajamas, loving the way it was loose and free flowing on his body in contrast to the tight suit he wore everyday. Not that it was a bad suit by any means, he loved the way he felt confident and stylish in it. He especially loved the way Crowley looked at him in it but it was still fairly tight and rubbed at him all day. Wearing some looser clothes at the end of the day was always a nice way to start winding down for the evening, or in this case, night. 

Wandering over to the kitchenette, Aziraphale poured some milk and started his usual hot cocoa routine. While it warmed up, Azirphale walked over to his living room bookshelf and started pursuing his unread personal collection, looking for a new book to start tonight. He finished the wayward knights in love book late last night so it was time for another choice. 

He picked through several choices and read the summaries on their backs. Nothing quite caught his attention though. They all sounded so generic tonight. He wanted something new and different. Maybe it was because of the changes downstairs that he was feeling this way but he knew for sure than historical romance just wasn’t going to cut it tonight. Going down a few shelves to the bottom of the cabinet, Aziraphale started picking through the biographies that he always meant to read through but never really had the interest in. None of them really caught his attention either. Huffing, Aziraphale stood up and went over to his warm milk and stirred in his cocoa, setting a few marshmallows on top for good measure. Maybe some television would set his mind at ease. 

Wandering over to the small two seater couch he kept in his living room, Aziraphale tucked in his legs and turned on the relatively modern television to the news, catching a repeat of the ten pm airing. At least it was something to keep him occupied. 

Over in Mayfair, Crowley pulled into his parking spot in the garage and power walked through the sliding door leading to the apartment complex main building where he lived. Several people were still milling about, it was a Friday night after all, lots of people hanging out for the start of the weekend. Crowley merely pushed his way through and miracled the elevator to open so he could get to his floor. Hitting the number two, Crowley ran his hands through his hair as he checked himself out in the elevator mirrors. How long had his vest been unbuttoned? How embarrassing. Well, a little too late to do anything about it now, he was already home. Crowley shook his head at his own commentary and stepped out of the elevator as soon as it opened. The floor was lit but it was silent as a mouse except for one apartment which he recognized as Chet’s. It was muffled but as Crowley walked past he could make out Chet’s gravelly voice chastising what was probably several kids for making such a ruckus so late in the evening and did they care about the people who were trying to sleep in the apartments next to them? Crowley chuckled to himself and continued down the hall to his own apartment where he planned on pretty much crashing as soon as he got in, clothes be damned. 

The emotional tiredness had hit him pretty hard as he drove home. It felt like a wave of emptiness had hit him right in the soul and his brain short circuited as it remembered Aziraphale burying his head in his chest and the feeling of hugging him to comfort him. It short circuited even harder as it remembered Aziraphale dabbing at his wet eyes, trying to keep from crying (which he never had done in the six thousand years he had known him). Overall, the experience had finally processed in Crowley’s brain and hit him like a Mac truck. 

Truthfully, he didn’t think Aziraphale would take the renovations as hard as he had been doing. He figured the angel would kick up a bit of a fuss, sulk for a few months, but then realize how good it was for the shop and come back to thank Crowley. It was usually how these things played out in the past. Granted, it was never on this level of scale or had to do with his bookshop before but all he could base his experiences off of was the few times Crowley had moved apartments and Aziraphale had helped him pick out a new one and was usually overruled on his opinions on what he thought Crowley needed in a place to stay. Aziraphale quit apartment hunting with him not so a hundred years ago over it. 

Overall, he never realized how close Aziraphale had held the shop in his heart. He might have even rethought the renovations if he knew it was going to affect Aziraphale _this _much. Well, probably not because of how suddenly Head Office had cut both of them off but he might have gone about it in a different way than the brute force way he had been dragging Aziraphale through. 

Crowley opened his front door and kicked it closed behind him, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really give a damn. His mind kept replaying the hugging scene in his brain and it was driving him mad. His face was blushed, his heart was racing, and he was overall a ball of anxiety of it. 

He had never really held Aziraphale that close before. They had sat close together before but with the hug he was close enough to smell his cologne and have that curly hair of his tickle his nose as Crowley had aimed his chin down to rest his chin on Aziraphale’s head (why did he do that in the first place; it shouldn’t have been as automatic of a reaction as it was). He even felt Aziraphale’s hiccuped breathing against his own chest and wow, did Crowley get lost in that moment quick. It was such a foreign concept to him now as he looked back on it but at the time it came so naturally to comfort the angel. To wrap his arms around him and whisper that everything was going to be okay and that Crowley was here for him. He was a demon, he wasn’t supposed to have an interest in comforting people or have the natural reaction to calm someone down who was on the verge of tears. 

It was all very confusing to Crowley. He was someone who always touted himself as evil and demonic (and for good reason, mind you) but he sort of liked what he did for Aziraphale. It made him feel whole and good (what did good even feel like, really?) like he was making a difference in the angel’s life in that moment. It made his chest warm and his cheeks red but he sort of liked that about what happened. When he examined all of the evidence, what he liked most was that Aziraphale had enough confidence in him to have that moment with him. It was a sign of trust! 

Crowley bolted up right from the couch he was sprawled across when that realization hit him. Aziraphale trusted him, really trusted him. This was more than the occasional bumping into each other or saving each other from discorporation. This was Aziraphale trusting him enough to show his vulnerability to him. It was an emotional connection! Crowley’s mind was blown. He knew his angel trusted him as far as he could throw him (which was not very far) but he had no idea Aziraphale trusted him to _that_ degree or _that_ deep. This was like a whole new world opening up. It felt ... weird. 

Crowley fell back onto the couch and sighed. This was definitely new for him. Hell never allowed any trust between its demons. There was no point when the name of the game was to screw over your fellow demon to try and climb the ranks. Trust led to a demotion and worse treatment among The Council. Well, except maybe for Crowley, he was one of Satan’s favorites after all, but the point still stood. 

Did he trust Aziraphale like that? That was the next question. Crowley laid there and let his minder wander through a few different scenarios but consistently came coming back to when Aziraphale was discorporated and his spirit found Crowley sobbing into the bottle at the local bar. He supposed he would have to say yes then, he _did _trust Aziraphale like that. At least he trusted him enough to see him cry in public, which was a pretty big trust factor. It also spoke volumes to about how Crowley felt about Aziraphale. He was his best friend. There was no one else he could see spending another six thousand years on Earth with without going absolutely nuts. They had been together, well not _together _together, though that would be nice, since the dawn of the Earth. Hell, even since before then. They had even met before Crowley had become one of The Fallen. They had a long history together. 

Crowley rubbed his face in frustration at the direction his internal thoughts were taking him. It was just more reminiscing about his true feelings towards his angel. Not something he really wanted to get into tonight given that he was going to have to spend all day with the person of interest tomorrow. 

Sighing, Crowley righted himself right side up on the couch and trotted towards his bedroom. He was tired, both emotionally and physically. Some sleep would do him a lot of good. But first, he needed a bath to soak and get the knots out of his back from sitting at the computer for most of the day. Otherwise, they would just set overnight and make it painful to sit tomorrow. He had tried to ignore them before and it did not turn out well. Damn physical bodies and their limitations. His celestial body never had these sorts of issues. 

Crowley huffed and rubbed his lower back as he stepped into his bathroom. He opened the hot faucet and dumped a measurement of Epsom salts into the bottom of the tub and let it fill before wandering back into his bedroom and stripping his clothes off and throwing them into his dirty clothes hamper. No need to sort them because pretty much all of his clothes fit into the “dark load” category. Now, what would he take for entertainment while the salts did their job? His phone? He really didn’t like to use it over water. The steam would void the warranty. His iPad? Again, same issue, water damage voids the warranty. Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley spotted a book sitting on his desk. It was the medieval romance Aziraphale which caught Crowley’s eye earlier that day. He didn’t remember grabbed it from the shop but he must have without thinking about it. It seemed interesting when he read the back of it. It harkened him back to when he was the Black Knight and Aziraphale was off playing with the Round Table. 

Shrugging, Crowley grabbed the book and traded places with it with his Valentino’s. He was due a soak after a week like this, he told himself. Maybe spending it with a book would make it even better. Who knew? 

Crowley spent the next two hours in the bathtub. The water was long cold but Crowley didn’t seem to care. He was too enraptured in the novel. The beginning was great! It introduced the characters the right way, he was able to connect with them, and the world building was superb. Crowley was just starting to reach the end of the first third of the book and was being introduced to the deep connection the two knights shared when his phone chimed from the bathroom counter. Irritated, Crowley elected to ignore it the first time, and the second time, but by the third chime Crowley finally put the book down on the toilet lid cover next to him and got out of the tub to pick up his phone. 

It was a text from Aziraphale… at one in the morning. What was his angel doing up this late? 

“I know it’s late and I said I wouldn’t but I’ve been playing with Excel for my budget and I think I messed up a formula because I keep getting these little pound signs in my box and I can’t get them to go away.” Below the message was a mostly blurry picture of a very long and complicated Excel sheet with the center of the picture being a box with a row of pound signs. 

Crowley’s fingers danced across his smartphone as he texted back, “It just means your cell isn’t big enough for your number angel. Double click the line between cells D26 and E26 near the top of the program. It’ll expand your cells.” A few minutes passed before his phone dinged again, 

“Thank you!!!” Crowley smiled at the message and ran his hand through his now damp and greasy hair thanks to two hours worth of the steam treatment he just gave it. He looked back at the book on his toilet and decided it was time to call it a night, even if his angel wasn’t. He picked up the book and slipped a bookmark that he found in the book on the page he was at and tossed the hardcover towards the counter. Draining the tub, Crowley switched the water source to shower and rinsed the salt out of his tub and took a quick shower. Stepping out, Crowley grabbed two towels, wrapping one around himself and the other to towel dry his hair before he blow dried it. 

Feeling satisfied and dry with himself, Crowley tossed on a big t-shirt and a pair of boxers before setting on the edge of the bed. His book on his night table and his phone charging away next to it. He lotioned the bottom of his feet and elbows before throwing his covers back and snuggling in for the night. At least he said he wasn’t going to be there until noon. It gave him plenty of time to catch a full night's sleep, and that he did. 

Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day of teaching and Crowley wanted to be ready for it. If his angel didn’t beat him to it first, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 may be a bit delayed, my dudes. I've just started going back to college about four years off to finish by Bachelor's and working part time, so it's going to take me awhile to get back into the swing of things plus get all of my homework done so please be patient.
> 
> I have no plans of abandoning this fic and in fact crave to write it so I'll be getting bits and pieces out after my study times as a reward but it's still going to take longer to get an entire 5.5k chapter out.
> 
> Still chill and the updates will return as soon as I can get them out.


	8. In Which Bad Decisions are Discussed but Also Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta in this house, we die like (wo)men.

At eight in the morning, a certain alarm clock went off in the apartment above a bookshop in Soho. The owner of said alarm clock, however, had just crawled into bed not three hours ago and was about three seconds away from chucking the alarm clock across the room. Apparently staying up all night to play with Excel was not good for the corporeal form when it was used to getting a regular night’s sleep. 

Aziraphale grumbled to himself and hit the snooze, wishing desperately he hasn’t made the decisions he had made last night. Squeezing his eyes shut, Aziraphale dozed back into a light sleep, only to be woken up nine minutes later on the dot, a cycle which repeated over the course of the next hour until he finally convinced himself to get up and get ready to run his bookshop. 

By 9:30AM, Aziraphale had just exited his shower, which had thankfully woken him up a little bit but he was still heady from the steam and could only think about getting back into bed and catching a few more hours. He really needed coffee. The thought crossed his mind to ring Crowley and ask him to use his fancy coffee machines to make him a palatable cup and bring it to him but decided to let that sleeping demon lie for the moment. Crowley was a horrible person when woken up early. 

Drying off, Aziraphale slipped on his suit and took care of his usual morning routines before heading down stairs at just a few minutes past ten. Thankfully no one was waiting on him to open his shop but he still felt a little disappointed in himself for being late, no matter how little. He had promised himself and Crowley a new beginning for the A. Z. Fell Bookstore and he had meant it. If things were going to turn around, it was going to take consistency and hard effort, not sleeping in for an hour just because he decided to dick around with, pardon his French, his new computer. 

As Aziraphale chastised himself mentally, he worked his way around the store, dusting off his most active sections and even taking a swipe or two at his back ends, grumbling most of the time. Not at anyone in particular but he was tired and grumpy and it was a good way to release excess frustration. He needed to stay positive though. Crowley was coming today to teach him more computer things and he needed to be ready to absorb it. He just had to keep reminding himself to stay positive. 

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale stopped dusting and closed his eyes to find his center; that sweet spot in his soul where he pulled on his Angelic energies to bring light and goodness into the world and into himself. He teased a little bit out and took a few meditative breaths to focus on it and radiate it throughout his body. A rush of energy flooded through his body as the celestial energy was unleashed. It was like three shots of espresso at once. Granted, it was a drain on his Angelic reserves but he figured this was a case worth dipping into it. 

Now moving with a pep in his step, Aziraphale finished his light dusting and moved back to the front desk, taking his spot behind his new computer. With nobody in the store, Aziraphale had more time to browse the YouTube as Crowley called it. Aziraphale pulled up a playlist on the basics of the Microsoft Suite and stayed behind his desk until noon. 

In Mayfair, Crowley’s alarm went off at 11AM with a drowsy demon slapping his alarm clock in frustration before rolling over and huffing. It did little to mitigate the nine minute snooze alarm from sounding again, waking Crowley up from his slumber yet again. In his haze, Crowley couldn’t even remember _why _he sat his alarm in the first place. It took his phone chiming with a message from Aziraphale to remind him why he was up before two pm. Granted, the message was from 10AM and had been dinging since then but hey, he was a heavy sleeper. 

“I think I have this Excel thing figured out but I’m still struggling with Word. There’s so many options to change the text and things. Should I be focusing on this or something else by chance? I don’t want to faff about with stuff that doesn’t matter that much.” The several sentences turned into a wall of text on Crowley’s phone and his eyes pretty much immediately glazed over. He was not awake enough for this. Crowley laid his phone down on his second pillow and rolled over, deciding not to deal with the message right at this moment. The moment was short lived however as the alarm clock went off again with a high pitched laugh from the radio station it was set to. Well, that was one way to wake him up. 

Crowley leaned over and slapped the alarm clock with a little vitriol than was probably necessary but that laugh really pissed him off. He huffed and let himself fall back into his pillow and threw his covers over his head and decided he was going to enjoy the next nine minutes if it killed someone and if he didn’t, he was going to be the thing that killed someone. 

The cycle repeated several times over the near hour. It wasn’t until 11:45 that Crowley decided he was done playing slap-happy with his alarm clock and threw his covers back and threw his legs over the side of his bed. Standing up, the bed groaned from the lack of weight on it and resettled as Crowley miracled the covers and sheets back into pristine condition. Rubbing his face, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and threw a K-Cup into his Kureig before he could even register that he was supposed to dig his Nespresso machine out and make a nice coffee for once. Oh well, the K-Cup was already brewing anyway. The Nespresso could wait until tomorrow, he supposed. 

Miracling on his television from the kitchen, Crowley listened to the calming voices of the BBC repeat the news from yesterday as he watched his devil cup fill with black magic. The usual chatterings filled the background of stories they had been covering for a few days or months. Usually involved the goings on with the United States and the wacky adventures going on over there lately. Crowley didn’t really get over there that much, wasn’t his territory to be marking and all that. He left that to his fellow demons who got assigned to Earth after Crowley made it cool. He made everything cool, though. 

Crowley took the filled cup from his Kureig and had a seat on his couch in the living room. The thing was seeing a lot more action recently now that he was separated from his Head Office and wasn't being forced to work day and night just to get his “quota” of temptations in. It wasn’t so much an official quota as much as Crowley bragging to others about how many he could do in a night and got dared to outdo himself. This was something that happened nearly every time he went to turn in a report downstairs and nearly every time he would end up pulling double or triple time with his time magic to get it done. But still, it did get done. Being able to rub Hastur and Ligur’s (Satan damn his soul) face in it always made it worth it though. 

Crowley grinned at his own memories of proving the two wrong as he sipped his cinnamon hinted dark roast. An odd combination but Crowley liked the taste of it and that was all that mattered to him. He certainly didn’t have enough guests over to offer making them a cup. 

The noon news kicked on with a live feed from the local stations. Crowley had pretty much tuned the television out and was wrapped up in his own thoughts of Home Office and the demons occupying it when a sound bite caught his ear: “And we’re live from Soho where the criminal has struck again, gluing pences to the sidewalk and causing chaos among the local populace. Not only do these coins present a tripping hazard but they are also causing major blockages across the sidewalks in town.” Crowley scoffed, copycats, every last of them. At least he did his near St. James Park where it wouldn’t affect the entire town and annoy everyone in it. Though, that would have been a much better idea if he was doing it for Hell points. But since he was doing it for his own demonic instincts, the park was good enough and out of the way enough Aziraphale wouldn’t bitch at him for disrupting the traffic around his bookshop. However, from the looks of things, this was right in front of said bookshop. He could see the little cornershop in the edge of the frame and Aziraphale’s little blonde mop bobbing in and out of the window. It was kind of cute. 

Crowley gave a little smile into his coffee cup and sipped at it while the news continued to cover the mysterious bandit who was disrupting the simple Soho-ian lives. Hopefully this would help drive business to the bookstore as they tried to pick up the coins glued in front of his front door. Probably not likely but Crowley hoped regardless. 

The news quickly moved on to more pressing matters across London, none of which Crowley were terribly interested in. Fake terroristic threats, tensions with the United States, Brexit, none of it truly interesting and mostly just the results of humans being humans. Crowley downed the last of his coffee as the news finished playing the half hour segment and got up to rinse his cup in the sink. The television flickered off with another miracle as the BBC World News picked up the signal, leaving Crowley in a comforting silence across his apartment. 

Over in the bedroom, Crowley’s phone could be heard chiming away with text messages. Figuring they were from Aziraphale, Crowley meandered back to his room. He needed to get ready to head over to the bookshop anyway. He had another day of lessons planned for the angel, hopefully most of them involving his new business software since Crowley wanted to start inventorying as soon as possible and get the place self-sustaining before they both went bankrupt. 

The phone’s dinging stopped for a split second before a ringtone filled up the room. Crowley read the name on the screen before quickly picking up the call and gave a friendly, “Hey Angel, what’s going on?” 

“Oh Crowley, excellent, you picked up. I was just worried is all. You said you would be in at noon and it’s almost one so I was a bit worried. You also hadn’t been answering my text messages so that was another cause for concern.” 

“It’s only twelve-thirty, Angel, relax. I just decided to sleep in today. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be over there in like fifteen.” 

“Before you leave, I have a favor to ask.” 

“Name it.” 

“Can you use that fancy coffee gadget of your and make me a nice cup of coffee? I’ve already tapped into my Angelic Reserves to keep myself awake but it’s starting to wear off and I need to stay awake until closing.” Crowley was a bit taken aback at that. He couldn’t believe Aziraphale would do something that reckless without his Head Office behind him. He knew he only had a limited amount of his Angelic Reserves and they took forever to naturally accumulate on Earth. It was part of the reasons they had to make regular trips to their Head Offices, to replenish. Granted, they accumulated from the natural love on Earth for Aziraphale and natural chaos on Earth for Crowley but it still took forever to gather enough to flare their auras and influence people or perform major miracles. 

“Of course, let me just dig out my machines and I’ll bring you a thermos of french vanilla cappuccino. It should be sweet enough for you with the caffeine content still being high enough. Just…” Crowley had to pause and think about the right way to put what he wanted to say, “Be careful, Aziraphale. With us being cut off from our Head Offices, it’s going to take a long time to replenish that Reserve so try not to use it anymore, okay? Next time just wake me up and ask for some coffee. It won’t kill me to be up before noon.” 

A silence could be heard between the two. Crowley stood ramrod straight, waiting either for the backlash or gentle tones of Aziraphale complying with his request. Finally, a small sounding Aziraphale came over the line, 

“I understand. Crowley. I forgot I probably won’t be making any more trips to Heaven anytime soon and just used it without even thinking. You’re right, I’ll leave it alone for the future.” Crowley let out a sigh he wasn’t even aware he was holding. 

“Thank you, Angel. I hate to see you without your miracles for the time it takes to rebuild.” 

“Me, as well. I’ve become so dependent on them over the years.” 

“Is there anything else you need that I can bring over?” 

“No, I think the coffee will be good for now. Just need some help staying awake. I’ve started deep cleaning the shelves just to keep moving so I don’t fall asleep watching YouTube!” 

“That’s probably a good thing. Alright, I’ll make you some coffee and I’ll be right over.” 

“Thank you, Crowley!” With that, the line went dead. Crowley dropped his phone on the bed and sighed. He was going to have to remember how the damn coffee machines worked and make sure his ingredients were still in date for them. He knew he had in date creamer and beans but that fancy syrup he used to keep around? No clue about that. The whipped cream? He never used it so no clue about it either. The french vanilla flavoring? He kept it around for a little while but might have thrown it away last time he changed the ingredients out in his fridge. 

He was just going to have to look and see what he had and miracle in what he didn’t. He knew the basics of making the drink but for the rest he was just going to have to go by flavor and tasting. With a sigh, he wandered back into the kitchen and crouched down to start digging out all of his fancy coffee equipment, hauling it to the countertop and unplugging his usual appliances to make space in the outlets; his apartments never had enough of them. Next, he started digging through his shelves and fridge, mentally going through a checklist of everything he would need and then after that, Googled how to make a french vanilla cappuccino and started going through that ingredient list when he came up half short on his mental check-list. 

The next hour was spent doing trial and error on various methods he found online to make the damn drink. Why Aziraphale couldn’t just drink a straight black coffee like the rest of the people on this Earth, Crowley would never know but still, he was apt to please his Angel any way he could. If that meant making some damn syrupy monstrosity then so be it. 

Attempts number one and two turned out to be basically black coffee with syrup in it; Crowley completely forgetting the milk and foam. Attempt number three came out way too watery. Attempt number four ended with Crowely spilling half of the milk into the glass, turning what was looking like a decent attempt at a cappuccino into a glass of milk and french vanilla syrup. Attempts five and six got close but both of them were missing a certain something Crowley couldn’t put his finger on. Or he didn’t until he looked down and realized he forgot his steaming wand. 

After attempt number seven, Crowley tasted the small cup he filled and came to the conclusion that it tasted pretty nice for being sugar coffee and would suffice for what Aziraphale was requesting. He replicated the coffee-making process to make enough to fill a thermos, favorited the recipe on his phone, and miracled himself into his going-out clothes. In less than ten minutes, Crowley was ready and out the door, cappuccino in hand. 

Heading downstairs, Crowley passed several of his floormates, giving them a polite headnod and continued bustling past in a hurry. He had already delayed himself yet another hour and knowing Aziraphale, the fool had probably pulled into his Angelic Reserves again despite just promising not to. Crowley grumbled to himself as he opened his car door and fell into the seat, throwing the thermos into his passenger’s seat. He quickly buckled up and backed out of the apartment’s parking garage, pulling directly into Mayfair traffic. 

Back in Soho, Aziraphale was putting on his best warface as he was losing the battle with his exhaustion. Thankfully, the coins glued outside of his business was leading to a fairly regular stream of customers whose forced interaction with was keeping Aziraphale _mostly_ awake. In fact, Aziraphale had just finished helping a customer find a book on the rise of protestantism in America when Crowley burst through the front door, black thermos in hand. 

“Sorry I’m late, Angel. But I did manage to bring your coffee.” Both Aziraphale and the customer looked confused at the sight of a slightly dishevelled Crowley whose hair flaired back from what looked like Crowley running up the street against the wind and the front of their shirt was stained with what looked to be leaking coffee from the thermos. The customer merely cut his eyes to Aziraphale and politely gestured to Crowley, a sign that said the customer could take care of themselves from there. 

“I can see that, my dear. It also looks like you’re wearing some of it.” Aziraphale took the thermos from Crowley and pulled at the stain on his shirt, prying the still warm wet spot off of his chest. 

“Wha - oh damn it. I thought I felt something warm.” Crowley quickly looked down and pulled at his shirt beyond Aziraphale’s grasp, pulling hard enough to untuck his shirt from his pants. 

“Come to the back, I’ve got some towels and a Tide Pen. If we’re lucky we can get it out before it sets.” Aziraphale locked eyes with Crowley and flicked them back to the customer still browsing his american religious history section. 

“Right, Tide Pen. Towels.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the arm and led him to the back room where they did most of their drinking before moving a folding screen in front of the entryway before letting Crowley miracle the stain out of his shirt. Aziraphale then grabbed his angel mug from the wine rack counter and filled it to the brim with the cappuccino. 

“Would you care for a glass dear? I can smell that you took great care to balance the flavors. You must have made this by hand.” Aziraphale brought the cup up to his nose and took a deep inhale before starting to sip on the mug. 

“Is there any other way to make it?” Crowley finished retucking his shirt into his pants and buttoned up before turning around to face Aziraphale. 

“Well yes, Nespresso makes little french vanilla inserts for the machine. Just press a button and add milk. I did some research on them when I was debating getting one for the shop.” Aziraphale took another sip and smiled into his cup. He could taste the love and affection Crowley had put into the drink to make sure it was just right for him. 

“Wha…” Crowley practically facepalmed over his glasses and took several calming breaths before looking back up to see a confused Aziraphale smiling at him. 

“Something wrong?” Crowley just paused for a moment before finally gritting out, 

“No Angel, nothing at all. Just… didn’t know that was a thing.” Wow, would that have saved him a ton of work this afternoon. “Better late than never, though.” 

“Very true. Now, I’m going to take my cup and head back outside to this customer. Feel free to stay a few more minutes and pretend to be getting the stain out of your shirt.” Aziraphale quickly pulled the screen back and darted out to the sales floor. Crowley huffed at nobody in particular, most likely himself, before grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass and pouring himself one half full and sipped on it for the next few minutes. Once he felt enough time had passed, he threw back the last of the glass and headed out to the sales floor to find Aziraphale ringing up a customer and thanking them as they left. 

“Been busy, today?” Crowley leaned over Aziraphale’s back as he finished up writing down the sale on his notepad. 

“A little bit. That little temptation you pulled has been forcing people to slow down in front of my shop. Most of them come in because they’re curious or looking to kill time.” 

“I didn’t pull that temptation. That was a copy-cat from the one I pulled at St. James Park.” 

“Oh, well, I’m fairly thankful for it, regardless. I’ve sold eight books so far today and it’s only one forty-five in the afternoon!” 

“Very nice! Good job, Angel. I’m sure you’ll get a lot more throughout the rest of the day as well.” Crowley patted Aziraphale’s shoulder and backed off to the computer chair hanging out beside them. “So, what’s the plan for today: Microsoft Word, the new business software, maybe even a little Outlook?” 

“I was thinking of Outlook. I watched a few videos of it and it seems pretty straight forward. I just need to set up an e-mail for the shop. Not quite sure how to do that.” 

“You can do it pretty easy through Google. Costs money though. Like twelve pounds a month. You can set the”, Crowley airquoted, “advanced suite for twenty-five pounds a month.” 

“That’s not too much, I suppose. It would be nice to be able to field questions and things through digital means. That’s what the young people call it these days, right?” 

“That just call it e-mail, Angel.” 

“Yes, well, then answering questions and things through e-mail.” Crowley snirked and fiddled with the mouse on the computer, waking it out of a deep sleep. Several spreadsheets littered the screen with various states of finishedness and complicated formulas. One looked like the shop’s budget and the other looked like a start of inventory of books. While he supposed Aziraphale was just playing with them, he was starting to worry about the resistance he was getting from the angel on getting to know his new business softwares which he just spent a small fortune on. “Oh, yes, I think I figured out how to balance my shop’s budget with Excel. It makes it a lot simpler to keep track of all my expenses and everything!” 

“Angel, I hate to bring this up but you just bought some very expensive software to do all of that for you. You don’t need Excel.” 

“Oh… right.” Aziraphale looked off to the side with a penchant look on his face. “Forgot about that. I do suppose I need to learn to use them soon. Which one is the budget software again?” 

“Zoho Books.” 

“Yes, right, Zoho Books. I think that’ll be the next thing I focus on. If I can get my budget settled then I can start factoring in these subscription services that much faster. I know Zoho Books is ninety a year. Cin7 is three hundred a month according to the quote I got. If we add in that Google, it’s twelve so we’re looking at four hundred and twelve a month in just monthly subscriptions. That’s a lot of money, Crowley. That’s also not including my regular utilities and shipments of books.” Aziraphale puffed a curl off of his eyebrow and backed up from his notebook. 

“I know, Angel but it’s supposed to be the best out there for you. Or at least for small businesses in general.” Crowley turned around in his chair and backed up to face the angel. “It’s going to be tight for awhile but I think we can pull it off. At least give the software a chance.” 

“I’m not saying I would give it a chance, I’m just saying we’re going to need to pick up a way to get more customers in here very soon at those prices.” Aziraphale huffed at the last part of his sentence and went back to sipping his cappuccino. 

“I’ll admit I heard it was expensive but I didn’t think it was that expensive. Still, it needs to be done.” Crowley minimized the Excel sheets that were pulled up and quickly brought up Chrome to which there were seven tabs of YouTube open and one Google search on how to sort an Excel sheet. Leave it to his angel to be that thorough. “The real question is, are you feeling up to it? You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.” Crowley gestured vaguely at Aziraphale’s face which was sporting dark circles under his eyes, a loss of color in his cheeks, and several new deep crevices where he lost his smile in favor of a resting bitch face to signal his displeasure with the world. Aziraphale sighed and sat down his cup, crossing his arms. 

“I’m not going to lie, Crowley. I am extremely exhausted at the moment. I only got like three hours of sleep last night and my body is used to getting nine on average. I was up all night finishing up the shop’s budget. I feel like I looked up and it was eleven and I looked up again thirty minutes later and it was five. I’m not sure where the time went.” 

Crowley made a noise in sympathy and rolled his chair over to Aziraphale, picking up his cappuccino and handing it back to him. 

“Maybe you should just take the day off today, then. At least when it comes to learning the new software. It’s hard to think when you’re _that_ tired, much less retain any of it.” 

“But dear, you know how important it is we-” 

“I know Angel but like I said, even if we did go through it you wouldn’t remember much of it because you’re too tired. We’ll get back on it tomorrow. Today, just chill out, drink you coffee, and I’ll order us in some lunch, okay?” 

“That… actually sounds very nice.” Aziraphale took a second to think about making a rebuttal but couldn’t muster the strength up to actually go through with it. He knew Crowley was right, even if we didn’t want to admit it in those exact words. Still, he appreciated the softness and sympathy Crowley was showing him. He even offered to get them both lunch! He was half excited to see what Crowley picked. 

Aziraphale remembered when he used to be able to go weeks or months without sleeping. He was an ethereal being after all, human needs weren’t technically necessary for him. However, he fell into the habit shortly before the whole thing with the apoca-didn’t through the prompting of Crowley and now he couldn’t go without it. It was one thing to appreciate being able to turn your corporeal form off for a bit and let it recharge but to have it be a necessity; he wasn’t sure how humans managed it, needing six to eight hours of sleep a night and still get everything they needed done. Now, he was acting just like them, needing that sleep every night to recharge his form or it simply wouldn’t work right the next day. He supposed not being able to tap into his Angel Reserves daily didn’t help as well. That was going to be a big change to get used to. 

“You okay, Angel? You went a little quiet there for a minute.” Crowley rolled into Aziraphale’s line of sight where he was staring into space and waved his hand in front of him. Aziraphale gave a small jump and covered his coffee cup with his hand to prevent any spillage. 

“Just mulling some things over, dear. Nothing to worry about.” Aziraphale took a big gulp of his coffee and rubbed the back of his neck. Partly due to stress and partly due to the caffeine starting to hit his nervous system and causing the back of his head to feel slightly fuzzy. Crowley just made a face at him and wheeled back over to the computer, leaving Aziraphale alone to his thoughts. Whatever they were, they must be very interesting. It wasn’t like it was unusual for his angel to get lost in his own world but it did make Crowley feel a little left out to not be privy to what wheels were turning his friend’s head that were so enrapturing. 

Still, he had things to keep him occupied: For one, he could mess with the new programs on the computer so he could be ready to teach Aziraphale. Two, he could start taking inventory manually. Three, he could start deep cleaning the place and get rid of the ‘no one had been in here since the place opened in 1800’ look. He decided option one would be the most prudent since it was the most pressing issues. Taking inventory without having the software to back it up would be putting the cart before the horse and deep cleaning by hand just really wasn’t Crowley’s thing. All of this after he ordered the lunch he promised earlier, though; chinese sounded nice. 

“Speaking of mulling, how did you like that book I lent you last night?” Aziraphale popped the question a few minutes after a long silence took over the shop. There were no customers, the pace outside had slowed down considerably with the average lunch hour being over, and Crowley had just started to relax in the chair he was draped himself across like a fallen curtain, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. 

“What book?” Crowley realigned himself in the chair, taking his leg down off of the arm rest and sitting like a normal person. 

“The one about the medieval romance. I saw you looking at it with great interest yesterday so I miracled it into your apartment. I hope that was okay.” Aziraphale pulled his doe eyes as Crowley side eyed him. He knew he didn’t pick up that freaking book! He just knew it! He wasn’t losing his mind. It was also hard to stay mad at Aziraphale when he pulled that face. 

“Gonna be honest, Angel. Kinda freaked me out with that. I thought I had picked the book up and just walked out of your shop with it.” Aziraphale smiled at him and cupped his mug with both of his hands in contentment. “And I’m only a third of the way through it so don’t ask me my opinions about it yet but it’s good so far.” 

“Oh! The part where they meet on the battlefield for the first time and Godwin is able to recognize Percival through his armor and they-” 

“Woah! Easy, Angel! I just got to that part. Don’t spoil anything for me.” 

“Oh! Sorry! I just get so excited when I get to discuss books with my friends. It’s lonely being a bookworm sometimes. 

“I know Angel, but you gotta remember I don’t read nearly as much as you so reading a book for me takes a little longer. I don’t read a whole novel a night or anything. I pick it up here and then when I get a chance and am in the mood.” 

“Oh! Of course! I don’t want to rush you or anything! The best part of reading is making it enjoyable and it’s no fun when you’re being rushed through a book.” 

“So give me a few days and check back in, alright? I’ll have some more of it read by then.” Crowley smirked at him and turned back to the computer to finish up the tutorial of the inventory software but not before he saw a wide smile come across Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale popped off not long after to head towards the back to refill his mug and continue cleaning the back shelves. _Cleaning being a relatively loose term around here_, Crowley thought to himself. 

An hour passed without any customers save for the chinese delivery guy who dropped off their lunch and was greeted with a twenty dollar tip courtesy of Crowley’s generosity and penchant for flaunting his money to impress Aziraphale. The front door was locked shortly after that with a sign saying ‘Out for a late lunch. Be back at 3:30PM’. Shortly after, that’s how the two found themselves sitting side by side on the couch in Aziraphale’s back room with enough chinese for three covering the top of the low sitting coffee table which was being picked at by both the angel and demon. 

The two ate in relative silence with Aziraphale going straight for the dumplings and Crowley slowly munching on his chow mein. Again, eating wasn’t _really_ his thing but he was happy to engage in the custom to make his angel happy. Aziraphale, however, was half lost in his own world while he stuffed his face with general contentment. 

Crowley could tell that despite the two and a half cups the angel had pounded down in the past forty minutes, he was still suffering from extreme exhaustion and was barely keeping awake. He could see the angel becoming loopy easily in the very near future. Aziraphale even missed his face with his chopsticks after picking up a dumpling and not looking at where his hand was. 

“C’mon Angel, stay with me. I know you’re tired but the day’s almost over.” Crowley picked up the dumpling from the floor where Aziraphale had dropped it after missing his mouth. 

“Sorry dear, I just wasn’t paying attention, I guess. My apologies.” Aziraphale gave his head a little shake and went for another dumpling, this one he made sure the small plate he was using stayed under the food incase of droppage. 

Crowley dropped the dumpling in an empty lid to throw away and sighed, “You know, maybe you should call lunch early and take yourself a little nap instead. You can eat between customers. I’ll even cover the floor for you while you do it.” 

Aziraphale lowered his half eaten dumpling away from his mouth and gave Crowley a confused head tilt, “Surely I’m not in that bad of a state, am I?”. 

“You’re pretty bad. I think a nap would be more beneficial than another helping.” Aziraphale side eyed him for his comment and took another bite out of his dumpling out of spite. 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, Angel. I meant you need a nap. Your corporeal body is going to start failing if you don’t let it rest soon.” 

“My corporeal body is fine, Crowley. I used to go years without rest and going without a nap for a few more hours isn’t going to kill me.” Aziraphale’s hand grip failed him as he dropped yet another open dumpling onto his carpet. “Oh, my. Not again.” 

“You’re not fine, Angel. Take the damn nap.” Crowley picked up the splattered dumpling with his chopsticks and dropped it into the open lid with the other fallen dumpling. Aziraphale huffed at him and poked at his sweet and sour sauce, clearly mulling the idea over. Crowley merely closed up his box of chow mein and set it on the table, ready for the moment Aziraphale would kowtow to his suggestion and ready to pack their up their leftovers. Several moments passed in silence before Aziraphale finally broke down, 

“If I do, will you wake me up in an hour so I can open the store back up?” 

“Of course, I’ll set an alarm on your phone even so you won’t oversleep.” 

“Very well, I guess it won’t hurt. I do need it, don’t I?” Aziraphale pulled his phone out of his pocket and shoved it at Crowley who gently took it and started going through several menus to set an alarm clock for the angel. 

“There you go, one hour on the dot. Just hit the green button when you get laid down.” 

“Thank you, dear. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go have a bit of a kip.” Crowley merely nodded at the Angel who was already plodding upstairs to his flat, his metaphorical celestial wings dragging on the ground behind him. Crowley gave a soft sigh and started packing up their lunch and and wrapping it back up to go into Aziraphale’s fridge upstairs. He would take it up once he was sure the angel was fully asleep. He also sprayed some air freshener around the room to get rid of the chinese food smell from running off potential customers who got too close to the back. Hopefully it would smell of pure air freshener and not just overly strong chow mein and air freshener. 

An alarm went off from Crowley’s back pocket not ten minutes later after the demon came downstairs of putting up the leftovers and pulling the blankets over a sleeping Aziraphale who fell asleep face down into his bed where it looked like he just face planted and then curled up over his sheets. Three-thirty was now here and it was time to reopen the shop. 

Crowley poked his head across the stacks and saw three or four people lined up outside the door and going between their watches and the sign, clearly growing frustrated over having to wait. It was only ten minutes into Aziraphale’s nap and it was time to make a choice: wake up his angel or trying to face the crowd on his own. 

Huffing, Crowley put on his best smile and forced himself into “polite Crowley” and walked over to the door, unlocking it from the inside. 

“Hello! Welcome to the A.Z. Fell Bookshop. Feel free to take a look around and let me know if you have any questions.” The people moved past Crowley with a fluidity only accomplished by trying to avoid touching someone who they thought would set them ablaze if they bumped into them. Well, he couldn’t turn his aura _all the way off_. That ruin ruin the point of having the aura in the first place. Crowley only smirked as the last person wormed past him and found his center point, remind himself who he was doing this for. 

_Let it not be said that I wouldn’t do anything for that damn angel_, Crowley murmured to himself as he watched the people browse the stacks of books. Well, now it was time to put that devotion to the test. The next hour was going to be fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks and welcome back to another edition of Words are Hard, This is Easier.
> 
> I jest, I jest, but seriously. Thank you to everyone who has been waiting patiently (and maybe even not so) the past five weeks because hoo-boy, I am dying on the inside. For those unaware, I just returned to college after a three year hiatus to pursue my Bachelor's in Technical Writing and am currently taking 13 credit hours with a 10 hour day on Tuesdays and Thursdays plus job searching (because I do still have bills to pay) so I am staying pretty busy.
> 
> The only time I really have to write is the four hour gap between my third and fourth class which is sometimes taken over my homework so I'm trying to get in some regular writing but uh, yeah, chapters are taking longer because.... reasons. Let me put it this way, I either get 3.5k words in during that break or like 0-50 if I have homework due that day. There really is no in between with me. But I still try and get some writing in, regardless.
> 
> Also, if anyone is any good with linguistics hit me up on here or on tumblr because I have an exam next Thursday and I have no fucking clue what is going on ahhhhhhhhhh
> 
> That's all for now. Until next chapter ~


	9. In Which Crowley Shows His Devotion to His Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! It's me, again! Not dead, was just super busy with midterms. To make up for the delay, I'm giving you an 8.7k chapter instead of my usual 5k chapters! Hopefully that sort of takes the sting out of the once-a-month update thing I've fallen into.
> 
> As usual, leave your thoughts in the comments, suggestions, theories, etc. I'd love to read them!

Aziraphale vaguely remembered laying down sometime around three-thirty pm for an afternoon nap at the behest of Crowley. It was now, however, ten forty-five at night as he discovered when he finally rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock. Aziraphale felt rested, sure, but also very very confused on how he managed to sleep that long when he specifically remembered setting an alarm and supposedly having a demon come shake him awake so he could run his shop. 

Turning back over groggily, Aziraphale reached for the spot under his pillow where he normally kept his phone only to come back empty handed. Reaching for the spot on the opposite end of his pillow where he might have shoved it accidently, he still came back empty handed. 

Aziraphale kicked back his duvet (which he didn’t remember pulling over himself in the first place) and stumbled himself across the apartment, heading downstairs with all the grace of someone who just came out of a deep sleep suddenly. Coming downstairs, Aziraphale came face to face with a dark bookstore. The curtains were pulled to, the lights were off, and the smell of an old red wine filled the area of the backroom of the bookstore. 

Moving forward, Azirapale toed his way into the back of his actual store. While hard to see anything, small slits of light shone in through the cracks in the blinds and the open beside areas. Moving to the door, he flicked on the lights and took in the scene before him: a completely dusted bookshop with the books all faced the same way and a clean computer desk. The blinds had been dusted and was no longer crooked and all of the end tables had his spare books into small neat piles, organized by genre (mostly all historical romance but that was a topic for a different day). It seemed that not only was nothing out of place, it was actually improved. 

Aziraphale flicked off the lights but flipped on the switch for his tableside lamp which was only a few feet away to give himself light to walk back. While it was dark, the only scene playing before him in his mind was one he had a hard time coming to grips with: Crowley let him sleep in and cleaned his shop. But why would the demon do that? It was, however, the only likely explanation. 

Stepping back into the back room, Aziraphale groped the wall until he found the light switch by the doorway and came face to face with a sleeping Crowley sprawled across his couch. His Valentino’s were setting on the side table along with a glass of quarter filled red wine. An open box of chow mein sat with a pair of chopsticks poking out of the top next to a can of allergen based Pledge along with an incredibly thinned roll of paper towels. Crowley, however, was sound asleep on his stomach with his left arm hanging off of the couch. His face was in one of his rare moments of peaceful as he lightly breathed through his mouth, a slight whistling coming from his nose with his allergies stopped up from all of that dusting. Aziraphale stopped and took in the scene before him for a few moments before breaking into a smile. His demon really did care, didn’t he? 

Aziraphale took the chow mein off and wine glass of the side table as quietly as he could, careful not to bump into anything to avoid waking Crowley. Carefully shuffling upstairs, Aziraphale put the food back into his fridge and rinsed out the wine glass before putting it on the dish rack to dry. _Now, for Crowley…_, Aziraphale moved to his small inset closet in his room searching for a spare, non-wool blanket. Crowley hated wool as he told Aziraphale throughout the entirety of the 1800s, repeatedly. After digging out three spare wool heated blankets for the winter, he found a small plush throw over. While it was late summer, it’s not like there was a great need for a blanket but he didn’t want to risk Crowley needing one and not offering one, at least. He could always kick it off if he got too hot. 

Aziraphale pulled the blanket out and tiptoed back downstairs, trying to take great care from stepping on the squeaking spots on the staircase and immediate landing. Leaning over Crowley, Aziraphale gently unfolded the blanket and draped it over the sleeping demon, tucking it under his chin as much as he could without touching him. Aziraphale, satisfied that he could do as much as he could without possibly waking his friend, trotted back upstairs after turning out the light in the backroom. 

Aziraphale came upon the top stair with a small blush on his face. He couldn’t believe Crowley went through all of that trouble for him. He also couldn’t believe he felt secure enough in Aziraphale to fall asleep in his shop. This was a major step in their friendship, to have a trust and devotion this large. Aziraphale always knew Crowley showed his affection through his actions but this was something truly massive, even for him! Aziraphale had to find a way to pay him back. It was in his angelic nature that no good deed goes without an equal reaction. 

Perhaps he could get something for Crowley’s apartment; he was always collecting weird and esoteric artwork. Perhaps some soul music on a record? He knew Crowley took pride in his “original” soul music and kept his collection alphabetized and listened to the discs frequently. It was something to think about. 

Aziraphale headed towards his stove and poured a generous helping of milk into the pan to start a cup of cocoa for himself. After setting the pan on the stove, he headed towards his bedroom to rid himself of his usual suit. Shedding his layers was like taking a breath of fresh air at the end of every day. 

Carefully laying the last of his clothes on the bed, Aziraphale was quick to slip on his flannel pajamas and rush back to the kitchen to prevent his milk from burning and being undrinkable. Pouring the milk into his angel mug, he added his usual cocoa powder and decided to forfeit the marshmallows for the night. He knew the sweetness of the cocoa would already have a strong enough smell, he didn’t want to add to the sweetness and risk waking Crowley up with any strange or obnoxious smells or sounds. He was going to have to be as quiet as he could tonight. 

With that thought in mind, Aziraphale picked up the newest book he ordered, a story about a wizard counselor in some kind of medieval town falling in love with a wizard of the rivaling town. He wasn’t particularly interested in the book given its sci-fi tendencies but it came highly recommended from all the new book review websites he had found on the internet so he was willing to give it a shot. Plus, it was available at the local library so he didn’t even have to pay for it. It was a win-win all around. He hated buying book he knew he wasn’t going to love (and he did love most books but paying for a book he couldn’t even finish was just too painful for him). 

Curling up on his couch, Aziraphale sat his cocoa down on his small side table and cracked open the barely worked cover of the book and set to work. The introduction to the characters and world setting was okay, nothing outstanding but what really got to Aziraphale was the immaculate world building which really started to take off around chapter three and didn’t stop. Before Aziraphale knew it, he was already halfway through the book and it was now one am. 

With a dejected sigh after looking at his phone clock, Aziraphale sat the book down and stood up to stretch, the floorboards underneath his feet cracking ever so lightly at the change in pressure standing on them. It took him a few seconds of creaking and the whining of the floor before he remembered his guest downstairs and nearly jumped out of his own skin. _Curse my creaky floorboards_, Aziraphale chastized he own apartment as he tiptoed to his kitchen with his half empty cocoa mug. Giving it a quick rinse and scrub with a paper towel, he then tiptoed back to his bedroom and crawled into bed after hanging up his suit which he left carefully laid over his bed. 

It was a good time to get back into bed anyway, he thought to himself as he burrowed under his duvet and then stretched to loosen his tight back muscles from sitting for those several physically long (but mentally quick) hours. Falling into a light sleep, Aziraphale slept a mostly dreamless nap until his alarm went off until eight am. 

Of course, the inevitable alarm went off at its assigned time, bringing Aziraphale violently out his revere. Slapping the bells off, Aziraphale got out of bed on the first ring out of courtesy for Crowley who could probably hear everything going on above him. With the grace of someone who just woke up but was trying to be dainty and quiet, Aziraphale edged over to his bathroom where he started running his shower for a quick wash. There was nothing he could really do about the noise. If it woke Crowley, then it woke Crowley. He would then know what it was like to wake up at six am every day to run a business. 

Aziraphale stripped off his pajamas and took as quick of a shower as he could to minimize the noise coming from his apartment. From there, he went through his usual morning routine of breakfast (fried eggs and sausage) and brushing his teeth and trying to tame his hair. By the time he miracled his suit clean and slipped it back on, it was 9:45 on the dot. He still had fifteen minutes to kill before he had to unlock his door and let in the (hopefully) crowd of customers. Speaking of customers, he wondered how many books Crowley was able to sell yesterday. Now would be as good of a time as any to check. 

Toeing carefully down the stairs, Aziraphale made sure to stay as silent as possible as he crept through the back room of his store where Crowley was still sound asleep, though now wrapped up in the blanket Aziraphale put over him before he laid back down for the night. Aziraphale leaned over the demon, checking to see how deep of a sleep his friend was in before noticing Crowley’s face twitching on occasion with the occasional hand gestures going up to his nose. A few stray hairs had fallen out of position of Crowley’s cowlick and were tickling the bridge of his nose every time they drooped down. Aziraphale, without even thinking really, reached over and brushed the hair out of Crowley’s face, tucking it back into the standing swoop that was folded backwards on Crowley’s head from his tossing and turning on the couch. 

“Smells like you, Angel.” a small murmur came from the sleeping Crowley as he rubbed his hand against his nose and tucked his face back into the blanket. Aziraphale froze on the spot, afraid he had woken his friend until he saw the slow sleeping breaths rise and fall from Crowley’s chest after a few tense moments. It wasn’t until Aziraphale raised his own hand to his face to breathe a sigh of relief that he got a noseful of his freshly applied cologne on his wrists and realize he probably just gave Crowley a nasal overload when he brushed the hair out of his friend’s face. Shaking his head, Aziraphale decided to get out of the room before he did any more damage to Crowley’s beauty sleep. 

As he walked away from the sleeping demon, Aziraphale flipped off his lamp and turned on the main lights for the store. It was nine am, there was nothing he could do to not wake his friend up anymore. He wasn’t going to delay opening his shop so Crowley could sleep in until noon. 

Aziraphale opened his (now clean) blinds and let in the natural morning sunlight. He could feel the warmth coming from the sun despite the chilly evening air still filling his store. He took a few moments to lose himself in the moment, smiling, face towards the rising sun through his window, before moving on to his desk where he went over his record of book sales. 

Despite the slow down before Aziraphale passed out for the afternoon, apparently things picked back up with Crowley recording twelve sales of rather expensive books, leading to a total of nearly ten thousand pounds. Aziraphale had to take a step back for a moment to clear his head because a) what was Crowley doing to sell that many books in the span of six hours and b) what was he doing to convince that many people to buy his more expensive collector’s editions books? Bristling a bit at comparison of sales between himself and Crowley, Aziraphale made sure the sales were recorded to his own standards (which they oddly were) and moved the notebook back to the wire rack Crowley had dug out of his storage and arranged all of his sales books on. It was going to be tough keeping this countertop clean, Aziraphale thought to himself as he glanced around at the organized system compared to his own natural state of chaos, desk included. 

Ten am hit and with it, Aziraphale slipped his key into the door and opened up the shop for business. Flipping the sign on the front door around to say “open”, the angel pittered around the shop, admiring all of the cleaning and changes Crowley made last night until customers started trickling in. It wasn’t until the fourth customer left at eleven am that Crowley stumbled out from the back of the shop, hair tousled, clothes wrinkled, and looked generally annoyed. 

“What time s’it?” Crowley leaned against one of the book shelves as he rubbed his face. 

“It’s eleven am, dear. Nice to see you finally up. I didn’t want to wake you, myself.” Aziraphale waved the customer he just checked out goodbye and he trotted back to where Crowley had taken off his Valentino’s to pick at the sleep in his eyes. 

“S’fine. Usually wake up around this time anyway. Where’s your coffee machine? I need my morning cup.” Crowley slid his Valentino’s back on as he wandered back into the back room. 

“It’s upstairs. Just head up and it’s right beside the stove. I haven’t used it in awhile though so I’m not sure if I have everything needed to make a cup of coffee.” Aziraphale called after the demon who immediately started heading upstairs as soon as he heard that’s where the black liquid gold was kept. 

“I’ll figure it out! Be back down soon.” Crowley reached the landing and had to do a double take of Aziraphale’s apartment because it was oddly organized and clean compared to his bookshop. _He must not spend much time here_, Crowley mused to himself, _or he just miracles everything clean_ _and tidy_. Whichever one was more likely was anyone’s guess. 

Crowley found the old coffee pot right where Aziraphale said it was. The thing was old, probably from the nineties, and still had a pop top and made a whole pot of coffee compared to Crowley’s Keureig which saved him from having to clean out the coffee filter and pot and only left him a manageable dirty cup. 

Maybe a Starbucks run was in order. Crowley stood staring at the pot with contempt until he decided against his better judgement and patted the back of his pants to make sure he still had his wallet and headed back downstairs. On the way downstairs, he flicked his wrist to miracle the wrinkles out of clothes and the smells along with it. He hadn’t been smoking in the past few days but only Satan knew how deep the smell went into his shirts. Walking up to Aziraphale who was sitting at his now clean desk (_say thank you, you little shithead Angel_), Crowley leaned over and threw himself against the countertop, “Going to Starbucks. What do you want for lunch while I’m out?” 

“What about the coffee-” 

“Yeah, I really don’t want to clean that thing out when I’m done. Starbucks is easier.” Aziraphale just look at him like he grew a third head, “C’mon Angel, need coffee. What do you want for lunch?” 

“Uh, um.” Aziraphale floundered at being put on the spot, “Buyer’s choice. Surprise me.” Aziraphale threw his hands up in the air as surrender and then pulled them back down as a thought crossed his mind, “There’s a great bahn mi spot up the road if you don’t want to go too far.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll pick some up on the way back. See you in twenty.” With that, Crowley was out the door and hung a left towards the nearest store he could picture in his mind. Aziraphale was left behind, sitting at his desk, with a confused look on his face. Surely his coffee machine wasn’t that bad that Crowley felt the need to drop a ridiculous amount of money on chain coffee. It wasn’t that hard to clean out either. Aziraphale merely shook his head and went back to his computer, blissfully unaware of whatever was going on inside his demon’s mind. _Sometimes it was better just not to know these things_, he thought to himself. 

Aziraphale leaned back in his chair after several minutes of silence across the store. Normally it was something he was quite used to, the silence. However, it was also starting to become concerning in the recent month. He had a nice nest egg, as it were, stashed away, but his recent spending adventures took a nice chunk out of it and now he had even more recurring monthly bills and- 

The bell above the door chimed as a pair of customers walked in with a confused look on their face. 

“Hello! Welcome to the A.Z. Fell Bookstore. How may I assist?” Aziraphale quickly stood up from his chair and walked over to the two. 

“Oh, we’re just looking around. We never noticed the storefront here before. We thought you were another entrance to the bookstore next door.” The younger of the two boys rubbed the back of his neck is embarrassment. Aziraphale just laughed it off (while slowly dying inside, he might add). 

“Oh yes, I get that a lot. Well, the shop was established in 1800 and has been handed down through several Fells through the years, most of us named Azira, much like myself and my father before me.” It was a lie he had told many a times. A lie he had told so often that sometimes Aziraphale forget it was even a lie at times. 

“That’s a very pretty name. I like it!” The older boy spoke up with a smile on his face. 

“Well, I thank you for that. As for the shop, we mostly specialize in esoteric topics such as the history of religion and its influences across both the U.K. and America. We also have a lot on prophecies and fortune telling so if any of those strike your fancy, let me know.” Aziraphale paused for a bit to run through his mental spiel. He perked up when he remembered his personal collection of read books , “Finally, we also have a small collection of historical romances that have just come in as well. They’re at the round tables up front. Other than that, I’ll leave you to browse. I’ll be up front at the desk if you need anything or have any questions.” Aziraphale turned around with a flourish and practically skipped back to his desk. 

Honestly, it was no wonder people thought he was gay but it was an image he started to cultivate around the seventies and eighties. If he couldn’t beat them, he might as well join them and start embracing the image they pushed on him no matter what he did. And it’s not like he wasn’t attracted to men while he presented as male, he supposed. But he was also attracted to Crowley when they presented as female? He was really attracted to Crowley no matter what Crowley presented as so it was more of a Crowley thing than a bisexual or pansexual thing. 

Aziraphale pushed the topic out of his mind when he sat back down at his computer. He picked up right where he left off with setting up an official email account for his bookshop for inquiries and online reservations and whatever else struck his fancy. It was basically a bunch of Google Forms to fill out and trying to find a name that was simple, creative, and yet wasn’t taken. Overall, it was a pretty simple process. Simply enough Aziraphale could do it on his own without the assistance of Crowley. About twenty minutes passed with Aziraphale finally wrapping up both the creation of the e-mail, setting up a recurring payment for it, and setting it up through Outlook when a voice caught his ear, 

“Excuse me, Mr. Fell?” Aziraphale popped his head up from the computer and quickly walked over to where the two youngsters were, in the prophecy section. “My boyfriend is looking at this book for his class in high school but was unsure about a few details about it. Can you help?” The younger boy ducked his head in shame with a blush coming across his face. 

“Of course, my dear. I’ve read that book several times. What do you want to know about it?” The younger boy spent the next half an hour coming out of his shell by describing the report he needed to do to Aziraphale while also peppering in questions about if the book would be able to answer the questions he was needing to ask in his report. Aziraphale, ever the patient saint, nodded along the entire time and answered the questions the boy was shooting at him as thoroughly as he could without actually verbally telling him how to do the report (thought it would have been a much simpler process to do it that way). By the end, the boys picked out three books over similar but technically varying topics and was able to leave the store with a rather low bill of a hundred pounds because Aziraphale felt sorry for them and that’s all the money the younger mom’s kid gave them. He supposed it wasn’t too bad, it’s not like the books were rare copies or first editions but the suggested retail value for those particular books was a smide over two hundred and seventy five pounds, a hundred and seventy-five pound loss. Crowley was going to kill him and Aziraphle couldn’t even blame him for it. 

Shoving his keyboard back and letting his head fall against his desk, Aziraphale took several calming breaths before righting himself up and pulling his keyboard back into place. He still had a job to do, even if he was severely disappointed in himself. 

Aziraphale finished setting up his Outlook just as Crowley walked back into the door with a drink carrier filled with two Starbucks drinks perched between his chest and hard gripped in his left hand, a sack from the local banh mi shop hanging off of his arm, and a Starbucks brown paper sack with an oddly shaped grease stain on the bottom of it gripped tightly in his right hand. 

“M’back, Angel. Brought treats and lunch.” 

“Dear, why didn’t you knock? I would have gotten the door.” Aziraphale rushed over and took the Starbucks sack and bahn mi sack out of Crowley’s arms, leaving him free to balance the drink carrier. 

“Still had my right hand for the most part. You might have been with a customer.” Crowley sat the drinks down on the countertop before grabbing the sacks back from Aziraphale. “Let’s see. Got you a coffee I think you’ll like. It’s called a french vanilla frappuccino with extra vanilla. It tastes like a milkshake with a hint of roasted beans in it. Perfect for the person who doesn’t like coffee but likes caffeine. Next, I got us both a muffin for later. Mine’s blueberry and yours is chocolate chip. For lunch,” Crowley went digging through the banh mi sack, digging through the wave of complimentary sauces the shop always included, “I got you your usual, the bánh mì chả lụa. Then I got mine, the bánh mì gà nướng.” Aziraphale just cocked his head at the Vietnamese Crowley just uttered and took the sandwich that was offered to him. Since when could Crowley speak Vietnamese? 

“Oh good, pork sausage!” Aziraphale opened up his sandwich and was happy to see that he didn’t get something random like a meatball sub. 

“That’s what I said, Angel.” 

“Yes, well, I don’t speak Vietnamese. I’m competent and happy with my English, Gaelic, and Italian, thank you very much.” Aziraphale took his sandwich and sat it by the computer along with the drink carrier perched serendipitously on the counter edge of his check-out desk ledge. “Also, I still have a half hour before my shop closes for lunch so I’m just going to set these things down here by the computer until then.” 

“Hng, fine, but give me my coffee before you start putting things away.” Crowley reached over the desk and picked up his cinnamon roast black coffee with a claw hand. He took a deep swig and let the tension ever-so-gently fall from his shoulders as the caffeine craving was being satiated. 

“Of course, dear. Just be careful around the books. That lid doesn’t look very secure.” Crowley looked down at the white pop-on lid and merely shrugged and moved himself back behind the desk and into the old computer chair. 

“This good?” Crowley threw his leg over his knee and leaned back after setting the cup down by the old setup. 

“As long as you’re away from my first editions with that coffee, then yes.” Aziraphale didn’t even look up at him as he got back to work on his new computer. Crowley merely huffed and continued sipping on his drink as the next several minutes passed in silence. 

Once the craving that was taking over the entirety of Crowley’s skull was subdued, he rolled over to Aziraphale and put his chin on his shoulder. “Whatcha working on?” Aziraphale merely rolled his eyes and shook his shoulder to get Crowley off. 

“I’ll have you know I just finished setting up an email for the shop so I’m designing some new business cards to print.” 

“Oh nice, got a design picked out already? Or you just going to update the old ones?” 

“I uh,” Aziraphale looked away and got very quiet, “I never made any cards.” 

“You what?!” 

“I never made any cards, Crowley! This is my first set.” Both the angel and the demon were suddenly struck with a case of deja vu. The phrase “flaming like anything” suddenly came into Aziraphale’s mind. 

“I could have sworn you had some before.” Crowley narrowed his eyes in concentration and started bouncing his leg under Aziraphale’s chair. 

“I used to put other people’s cards out if they left any after they visited but I never made any myself. Also, you’re bouncing my chair. Move your leg, please.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Crowley moved his leg out but continued on bouncing. “I still could have sworn you had cards but I guess I’m remembering the ones that got left all over your counter.” 

“Most likely. Still, now is as good of time as any to make new ones! I’m thinking something elegant with a light script font and a whimsical picture of the bookstore front.” 

“Sounds good in theory but can you fit all of that into one card with it still being readable?” Crowley was ever the mood killer, forcing Aziraphale back into reality from the daydream of his perfect business card. 

“Well, I can certainly try! Won’t know until I draft it up.” 

“Mmmm, let me know how it goes. I’m interested to see how it turns out.” Crowley rolled back to his spot and continued sipping on his coffee while swinging back and forth in his chair. 

“I’m hoping it’ll turn out well. I’ve found a few sites where they’ll give you your first couple hundred cards free so I’m thinking I’ll have a few designs printed and see which one I like best. 

“You know you can view the cards before you get them printed right? You can see it digitally before you actually order it.” 

“Oh? They’ll let me do that?” 

“Yeah, Angel. Don’t waste your hundred free cards on a draft. It’s a waste of money, time, and effort.” Crowley made a face at Aziraphale before pulling out his phone and starting to poke at the screen. 

“How is it a waste of money? They’re free.” 

“That’s a hundred free cards you could have used on cards you like so you wouldn’t have to order more out of your pocket.” Crowley didn’t even look up and sounded bored if Aziraphale had to pick a word for it. 

“I guess that’s true. Very well, I’ll make sure they’re correct on the proof they’re supposed to give me.” Aziraphale grumped afterwards, “They didn’t say anything about a proof though. Would have been nice to know.” 

“It’s a surprise. What can I say, Angel?” 

The next half hour spent in a fairly quiet atmosphere. The shop had cleared out and the only conversation was between Crowley and Aziraphale whom were going back and forth on design and font choices on occasion. Aziraphale cellphone chirped with the alert that it was time for lunch, prompting him to hop out of his chair and lock the door before anyone could in and interrupt him from the delicious bahn mi he had been drooling over since Crowley got back from his coffee run. With a quick flip of the wrist, Aziraphale flipped the open sign to closed and changed the return clock to two pm. With the dry erase marker he kept by the front door, he wrote “lunch” in a flowing script just under the “Closed” text. 

“Finally, lunch! Would you care for some tea, dear? I think I’m going to have some white peach with my sandwich.” 

“No, I’m good. I still have half of my coffee. Thanks, though. I’ll grab us some plates.” Crowley trailed right behind Aziraphale until they reached the back room. Aziraphale headed upstairs to grab his tea set and Crowley knelt down to rifle through Aziraphale’s collection of kitchenware. Pulling two plated and a couple sets of silverware, Crowley assembled the backroom table up for both of them to eat. Aziraphale came down with a teapot, a cup, and a tin of loose tea leaves. 

“Are we eating back here?” 

“Well, we’re certainly not eating at your desk. I just cleaned the bloody thing off. I’m not going to see it get as dirty and sticky as it was before.” 

“Ah, yes, right, of course.” Aziraphale ducked his head and a large red blush came across his face. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for that but you bolted off so fast this morning after waking up that I didn’t get the chance.” 

“Well, you’re welcome, Angel.” Crowley looked almost shocked. Normally Aziraphale was the last person to comment directly on something Crowley did that was nice because he knew it would be trouble for both of them if he was caught doing so (plus it irked Crowley a tad. He was a demon after all; he was NOT nice). However, with the new “Their Side”, it meant the angel could finally be as open as he wanted about thanking his partner (is that the right word for what they were?). “I was happy to help plus it kept me busy during the downtime last night.” Crowley moved back to arranging their plates and silverware before heading back to the front to grab their lunches and snacks. Aziraphale tended to like to end his meals with something a little sweet. That was the _real _purpose of the muffin but he would never tell Aziraphale that. It would mean he would have to admit that he was going out of his way to think of the angel and that would mean partially admitting his feelings he was not ready to deal with that in any way, shape, or form. 

“Still, it means a lot to know that you’re thinking of ways to help besides just throwing money at the problem. It’s thoughtful, Crowley.” Aziraphale picked right back up on the topic as soon as Crowley walked through the threshold to the backroom. 

“Well, I mean, it’s not like it was going to hurt me or anything to clean a little bit. The shelves were a bit dusty and I’m not sure how you kept finding your fountain pen in that mess you called a desk.” Crowley dropped the food bags beside the table and started digging through the banh mi sack to dig out their sandwiches. Aziraphale merely chuckled, 

“I would say the shelves were more than a _bit_ dusty. I generally just swipe at the front ones but I rarely touch the back shelves. Cleaning is something I’m going to have to get into the habit of really doing if this store is going to be successful. I can’t rely on the cobwebs to run off my guests anymore.” Crowley merely hmm-ed at Aziraphale and sat out the food onto the plates, making sure to keep the muffins in their sacks and hidden from view so Aziraphale wouldn’t fill up on sweets before his lunch (which he was apt to do). “So, Crowley, what exactly did happen yesterday?” Aziraphale sat down on the couch after Crowley placed his sandwich on the plate and his now warming and condensating frappuccino in front of the set-up. Aziraphale merely wrinkled his nose at it and instead started filling his steeping ball with leaves and placed it in the teapot. 

“You have to at least try it, Angel, c’mon.” Crowley reacted to Aziraphale’s nose wrinkle with a plea. He had admittedly spent a nice chunk of change at Starbucks and he really wanted Aziraphale to at least try some form of coffee so he could share his passion of it with him a little more. Tea was nice and everything but he was really trying to pull his Angel into the twenty-first century, little by little. 

“Oh, very well. You know I can’t resist that tone of yours. I’ll try it after my lunch. Probably serve as a little pick-me-up for closing time. I guess put it in the freezer or something. It seems to be melting?” Aziraphale picked up the admittedly wet cup and watched how the frappuccino mixture seemed to be thinning and sliding around inside the cup. 

“They’re normally meant to be drank immediately while they’re still thick. Not sit on a bookstore countertop for half an hour.” Crowley plucked the cup from Aziraphale’s hands and trounced upstairs where he quickly put the cup into the small freezer section of Aziraphale’s fridge and headed back downstairs to smell a mixture of pulled pork, grilled chicken, and a light floral scent of what was probably Aziraphale’s white peach tea. 

“So, you never did answer my question. What happened yesterday? I laid down expecting an hour or so nap and woke up nearly eight hours later to a full sold ledger, a clean store, and a certain someone asleep on my couch with a box of chow mein and a can of Pledge next to them. I also don’t recall owning a can of Pledge.” Aziraphale moved right back onto the question plaguing his curiosity while pulling the steeping ball out of his tea by the chain attached to it and letting the drippings fall into his teapot. Crowley merely sighed and let himself fall into the couch. 

“Long version or short version?” Crowley took the tea cup offered to him by Aziraphale and held it with both hands as he graced him with the first pouring. 

“Surprise me, dear.” 

“Well, to put it simply, you slept through your own alarm.” Crowley took a sip of the tea and came back with a surprised face. It was actually quite good and that was coming from a person who lived off of cheap coffee. 

“What do you mean? I never remember it going off.” Aziraphale poured his own cup and sat the teapot between the two of them for ease of access. 

“From what I can tell, you turned it off while still asleep. After your hour was up, which given that you laid down only twenty minutes before lunch was up, meant I had a full store to deal with; I excused myself from the guests and rushed upstairs to see your phone open, in the middle of the bed, and you curled up in your duvet near the edge. I tried to shake you awake a few times but you just kept grunting at me and eventually told me to go away. So, I finally just left you to it. One night managing the store wasn’t going to kill me, after all.” Crowley finished with a shrug and started digging into his sandwich. Aziraphale sighed and tried to remember back to last night but kept coming back empty handed. It meant the only version of events he had was Crowley’s and he had no reason to lie. 

“I was really tired. I suppose it’s possible.” Aziraphale huffed and started eating on his own sandwich, savoring the flavors of the freshly made bread and the flavors of the meat mingling with all of the spices infused in them. 

“I was just as shocked as you were. But you did. You clearly told me to go away while still very much asleep. I never took you as the type to talk in your sleep but hey, learn something new everyday.” Crowley sat down his sandwich and wiped his hands on the napkin by his plate. Aziraphale merely made a noise at him as he took another bite and started chewing. 

“All I can tell you is nobody complained back when communal living was still back in style.” Aziraphale finished his bite with a hard swallow and patted at his mouth before going back for another bite. 

“That was four thousand years ago, Angel.” Crowley snarked before taking another bite of his own sandwich. Aziraphale merely shrugged and reached for his teacup to help wash down the dry materials on his sandwich as he chewed. 

“So, talk to me about the sales yesterday.” Aziraphale sat down his food and turned to look at Crowley expectantly. 

“What about them?” Crowley continued to look down at his phone which was flashing with Twitter notifications on the table as he was tagged in a three way conversation about new innovation in graphics cards and their relation to e-sports. Not Crowley’s favorite topic, he was more entrepreneurial, but it was still a fascinating debate nonetheless. 

“You had a lot of them yesterday. Must have been busy.” 

“It was pretty busy. You had a line of them outside your door yesterday out of lunch. Apparently one of your previous customers went back to the priory and told all of them about your collection on the spread of the Church of England and that caught some attention around the holy water cooler.” Aziraphale immediately rolled his eyes at Crowley’s imagery but it was still interesting to see what sparked the rise in sales. Perhaps he should market more to the churches around the area. It would make Crowley a tad uncomfortable but it would mean an uptick in sales which is always good. “I made sure to keep your first editions off limits and told them if they were really interested in purchasing them to come back over the next few days to talk to you. As far as they knew, I was just some kind of bog standard employee.” The last phrase rolled off Crowley’s tongue with a hint of derision but it was hard to tell what his full stance was on the subject given he was staring down at a tiny screen with rapt fascination and no facial expressions to read off of. Aziraphale merely rolled his eyes and went back to his sandwich. 

Several minutes passed in silence with both the angel and the demon chewing on their sandwiches and drinking their tea (and Crowley his coffee as well). The silence was nice yet there was a slight undercurrent to it which Aziraphale felt as a source of tension. Crowley’s last statement just wasn’t sitting quite right with him. After all, he wasn’t a true employee, or even a volunteer for that matter until recently. Sure, he was in here every day but that was mostly to hang out and get drunk. Yesterday was the first real push he had seen from Crowley to keep the bookstore going post Apoca-didn’t. Did he want to be considered more? 

Aziraphale thought about it for a moment before not deciding he wasn’t totally aborhed by the idea. Having a partner (_in the business sense only, remember that Aziraphale) _wouldn’t be the worst idea he had ever had. It would be nice to also have some input on how to keep the place moderinzed. Crowley was always sticking his nose in the latest trends and memes as he called them. 

“I certainly don’t want to sell them but if the price was right, I might consider an offer or two given the slow sales around here.” Aziraphale waited a few more beats before trying to pick the conversation back up and if he was honest, avoid the conversation his gut was pushing him to have with the demon sitting next to him. Crowley didn’t even respond, typing away furiously on his phone was an amused look on his face. Aziraphale sighed gently before going after the last few bites of his bahn mi and sipping the last of the tea in his cup. 

“It’s totally your call, Angel. I know how much those books mean to you but if you’re trying to avoid dipping into your savings as much as possible then it’s something worth considering.” Crowley started talking while Aziraphale was mid-chew and falling back into the internal conversation about taking on Crowley as a partner. Aziraphale came back to reality with a jump and nearly turned his cup sideways. It was empty, thankfully, but it was still a recipe for disaster had it been full. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Where were you off at?” 

“Nowhere important. I mean, it is important but it’s not that kind of important. I mean, it is but….” Aziraphale huffed and finally settled on, “I’m just thinking on some things.” Crowley just side-eyed him with a concerned look on his face and backed off back to his own thoughts. 

“Anyway, yeah. Sorry about the delay in response. I’m having an argument over graphics cards and e-sports and it’s turned into a twenty person debate on twitter so I’m getting notification every few seconds. Must be lunch for them as well because all of them are online at once.” Crowley went back to his phone, “But I’m still listening. Feel free to continue.” 

Aziraphale put down his sandwich and clenched his hands over his thighs. His gut was screaming at him to ask and just get it over with instead of hinting around the subject for the next six thousand years. He just needed to…. Do it. Just, do it. _One… two… three, ASK!_

“Are you interested in becoming more involved with me, Crowley?” The minute the words left his mouth, he knew they came out wrong. Crowley immediately put down his phone and stared wide-eyed at Aziraphale with his mouth slightly open. “In the business sense, of course! You sounded earlier like you were annoyed over being mistaken for an employee and I uh… I was thinking that maybe… well, you’ve taken a recent interest in the shop and I was thinking maybe, perhaps, you, um… you would like to maybe come into the business with me and become more involved? Maybe become a junior partner or a regular partner?” Aziraphale paused for a moment only to be answered with silence and an unchanging shock on Crowley’s face. “That is of course if you want to! No pressure at all! It was just.... An offer.” Aziraphale looked down and reclenched his hands over his thighs. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Oh dear, I’ve made a mistake.” Aziraphale quickly stood up and attempted to rush out of the room only to be stopped by Crowley grabbing his wrist across the table. 

“Wait!” Crowley barked out the word before Aziraphale could get too far out of his grasp. The angel didn’t even look at him and balled up his hand into a fist as his cheeks grew red out of embarrassment. “You haven’t even really given me a chance to answer. It takes a few seconds to process a question that big, you know.” Aziraphale still didn’t answer back, facing away from the demon now out of sheer sensitivity out of how red his face was and the tears welling up in his eyes out of the no he convinced himself Crowley was going to give him. The mere thought of Crowley wanting nothing to do with him always made him a bit sensitive. He guessed it was a natural reaction to the fear of the person you loved pushing you away. Crowley sighed and clicked his tongue as his brain rushed through the information related to Aziraphale’s question. It was a lot to process, he had to admit. This wasn’t a question you answered lightly. 

They stood in silence for several moments, Aziraphale pulling at the grip Crowley had on his wrist before Crowley huffed through his nose and tried to find a calm facade. He could tell he wasn’t going to get a lot of time to think about this but he felt he was making the right decision with that little time and information he had. 

“Aziraphale, before I give you my answer, are you sure you know what you’re asking? This is a major thing you’re putting on the table. It isn’t something you should be offering because you think my feelings were hurt by a few customers.” Crowley doubled down on his grip on Aziraphale’s wrist. He knew the minute he loosed up, Aziraphale would run out of the room and now was not the time to be playing a guessing game as to where the angel went during such an important discussion. This wasn’t something they were going to be able to ignore and avoid. 

“I know what I asked, Crowley. I just… also don’t want to push you into something you don’t feel ready for or don’t want. When you didn’t answer me straight away… I thought… that maybe…” Aziraphale trailed off into his own thoughts of negativity and Crowley mocking him for asking the question. In truth, he knew Crowley had more reasons to say no rather than yes. They were naturally made enemies after all. They may have told their Head Offices to fuck off and they may have come together during the apocolypse but there was also a constant worry that Aziraphale held that one day Crowley was going to wake up and realize how different they were and go his own way. Aziraphale didn’t want to fall in love any more than he already had and be left with nothing. 

“Angel. Look at me.” Crowley walked around the table and put his free hand on Aziraphale’s cheek despite the angel looking down and away from him. “C’mon, I’m not going to answer you unless you look at me.” Aziraphale didn’t move, instead only muttered, 

“I already know your answer, anyway. You don’t have to spare my feelings by doing this.” 

“Aziraphale, just look at me, damn it.” That caught Aziraphale’s attention. The angel perked up and looked up at Crowley with glassy eyes and a shocked expression. He never used his name with a curse like that. “There.” 

“If your offer is sincere and you truly are okay with it, I would love to become your partner.” Crowley purposefully left off the ‘business’ qualifier. “You know I would never let something you value go without fighting for it. If making me a partner means you get the extra support you need, then by all means I’ll sign the paperwork for it.” Crowley was never much into metaphors but he felt this was a decent one to come up with on the spot. Plus the business thing was cool too, he guessed. 

“Oh! Really?!” Aziraphale lit up immediately. “I never thought you would say yes! My goodness, this is amazing! Crowley, thank you!” Aziraphale jumped up and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck in a tight hug. “I’ll contact my solicitor and have them draw up the paperwork!” Aziraphale pulled away from the stunned demon who was just now cautiously wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s middle, “You’ve already helped me so much and I want you to have the recognition you deserve for it.” 

“It’s really no big thing. It’s what friends do, right? Help each other?” In truth, Crowley didn’t really know much about friendships beyond The Arrangement. He knew humans developed deep friendships in their short lifetimes and they consistently did things for each other in the name of it but Hell never promoted friendships or even allowed them, really. He was pretty sure Heaven was the same way. Maybe this was something they could figure out together. 

“Well yes, but I think our friendship is fairly unique.” 

“You mean besides being six thousand years old?” 

“Mmm, beyond that, yes. Still though,” Aziraphale lowered his arms from Crowley’s neck and walked backwards out of the demon’s loose embrace. “I say this is a cause for celebration. How about we stay closed for the rest of the day and break open those rare bottles of wine I have stored away?” Aziraphale started towards the back of the back room before Crowley grabbed his upper arm and swung him around to face the entryway to the back room. Aziraphale stood confused for a moment before Crowley explained, 

“As much fun as that sounds, we both agreed that this shop was going to take all of our dedication to bring it up into shape and taking an afternoon off unannounced is not going to help it. We can celebrate after closing.” Leave it to Crowley to be the voice of reason in the relationship. Aziraphale merely pouted for a few seconds before caving in and setting back down on the couch. “Nu-uh, Angel. It’s 1:55PM, time to prepare for your post-lunch opening.” Aziraphale glared at him for a few seconds before popping the last bite of his banh mi into his mouth and chased it down with a few small sips of tea before dashing back to the front of the store. Crowley smirked at himself and started cleaning up after the both of them. 

Whatever just happened between the two of them was a huge step in their relationship and made Crowley feel more confident in taking those next few steps he wanted to in progressing his relationship with the Angel. Probably not today and probably not next week but it did make him feel at ease in taking those small baby steps towards something greater. 

Aziraphale could be heard chattering to a customer who waited for the shop to open. From the sounds coming from the lobby, it was yet another priest which meant Crowley was going to stay out of dodge until they left for fear of the Holy Water he was convinced all priests kept on themselves. It would give him time to do some thinking after cleaning the back room anyway. What exactly was going on between the two of them anyway and what was Crowley’s next step to make it something better? 


	10. In Which an Angel Catches a Windfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I am, surprisingly, not dead as many of you may have thought.
> 
> Nope, just been busy with school and I found myself a new job (which is where I'm doing most of my writing oddly enough, finished this chapter in four days after letting it set for three months).
> 
> I'm hoping to get back to regular updates soon-ish. I'm aiming for one a month at minimum but we'll see where things go!
> 
> As always, if you like what you read, leave a comment or a kudos! I love those e-mails when I get them <3

The answer to Crowley’s previous question as to what to do to progress he and Aziraphale’s relationship, as he sat on the edge of his bed that night, was to do nothing. Clearly things were progressing in a manner which was beneficial to both of them. They were becoming closer in terms of their personal relationship and their professional (which was growing much faster than their personal but Crowley learned early in his time on Earth that beggars can’t be choosers). Plus, helping Aziraphale revamp his business meant that he got to spend a lot more time with the Angel. Still, he still felt like things weren’t progressing _fast enough_. It was a silly notion but after six thousand years of pining and they were finally granted the freedom they needed to be together; it was extremely painful to still be forced to sit on the sidelines and watch the person you love go about their life knowing you weren't by their side and taking those steps with them. He still had to remind himself that while he had been ready to make the move for the entirety of Earth’s time, Aziraphale probably wasn’t and still needed the time to be comfortable with the topic. Of course, this was a topic that was covered in the seventies with “You go to fast for me” but it seemed that statement still held in the Year of the Lord 2019. 

Crowley bent over and let his face rest in his hands for a moment before rubbing his face on the way back up. Leave it to the demon to be a lovestruck fool with someone who didn’t recropiate his feelings. That was honestly one of his worst fears, that Aziraphale didn’t love him back. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped to Lucifer and God that he was wrong in that fear but it seemed like no matter how much praying he did, it wouldn’t change anything. Aziraphale’s feelings were his own and his actions to show those feelings were his own (much to Crowley’s annoyance at times). 

Getting fed up with his line of thinking, Crowley stood up and stripped his clothes off and grabbed the paperback Aziraphale had miracled into his apartment before walking into his bathroom and ran a hot bath. Normally, Crowley wasn’t one for complete submersion in water unless the times drastically called for it like his mortal form having its back locked. However, this was his second bath in a week with this one due to simple emotional stress. His emotions were frayed and his shoulders were around his neck after this afternoon. 

Granted, after lunch, things were pretty smooth sailing. Three customers came in after they reopened, one of them a priest and two of them theology students looking to finish a paper on religious subtext or something or another. Crowley would be the first to admit that he didn’t pay that much attention whenever religious studies students came through. Mostly because they rarely got religious history right and he was tired of hearing the same “edgy” theories crop up throughout the years. He finally just learned to tune them out whenever they came in. 

Aziraphale had also decided to not party as hard as originally intended after they closed. Turned out staying open an additional seven hours after lunch tended to take the pep out of one’s step. They ended up sharing two bottles of wine and called it a night when Aziraphale started dozing off on the couch during the lull periods in their conversations, most of which revolved around making improvements to the shop and Crowley going on a rant about the Twitter argument he had earlier. Aziraphale spoke briefly about how his shop was becoming popular among the clergy and theologians so he was making tentative plans to advertise around that area, with Crowley’s blessing of course. Crowley gave it but said he was going to be weary around the flocked priests because they might have holy water on them and demons didn’t play with a loaded gun like that. 

What bothered Crowley the most, however, was Aziraphale dumping the question of partner on him out of the blue like that. Clearly it was something he had been mulling on for awhile but he just felt like Aziraphale hadn’t given the question its due diligence before asking him. He almost felt like it was a pity question that was designed to make Crowley feel better about himself after being mistaken for a common employee. Which, he sort of was in a sense except that he didn’t get paid. So he was more like a volunteer or an intern at best. 

Crowley scoffed at his own thoughts and picked up the book and ran his finger along the bookmark he left in it to open it back up to chapter ten, where he left off. With his free hand, Crowley shut off the water once the tub was three-fourths of the way full and stepped into the bath and let the hot water burn its way up his legs and body as he settled into the bathtub. It was nice to be able to just sit and relax. It may have bothered his inner snake to be completely submerged in water but his corporeal form thanked him immensely for it and he started to feel the tension in his back loosen up ever so slightly. Letting himself lean into the back of the tub, Crowley settled in for a few hours of reading and peace. 

Back in Soho, Aziraphale had stumbled back up into his apartment slightly buzzed as he called it. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was a little drunk as evidenced by the fact that he couldn’t walk for an extended period without stumbling against the wall when he forgot to pick up one of his feet. In his defense, he did suck down nearly an entire bottle of high proof wine in under an hour and a half. He had thought about sobering himself up but after pouring his soul out to Crowley earlier and still managing to work afterwards, he felt like he had earned a right to be a little floaty for the evening. 

After stumbling to his bed, Aziraphale sat down on the edge and let himself fall backwards onto the mattress, admiring the way the floaters moved behind his closed eyelids and the way the blood rushed in his ears as he sat in glorified silence. Even the streets outside were mostly quiet for once. Taking in a deep breath, Aziraphale let it go slowly as he let the tension fall out of his body. 

He sat like that for several minutes until the need for sleep pulled at his consciousness. Sitting up and then forcing himself to stand up (despite the ground moving out from under him), Aziraphale stripped off his suit and hung it up and slipped on his tartan pajamas before crawling back into bed under his duvet. Shortly after, sleep took him into a calming world and Aziraphale slept like a log. 

In Mayfair, Crowley stepped out of his bath around midnight, consuming over half of the remaining book, leaving himself at the beginning of chapter twenty-two, and a clean body after he scrubbed himself down with a lavender scented body wash for the ultimate relaxation methodology. Tossing the book onto his nightstand, Crowley started into his usual nightly routine of lotioning his feet, hands, and elbows before throwing back his comforter and bed sheet and snuggling under them before letting sleep take him into the next morning. 

Eight in the morning came fast for Aziraphale. Slightly hungover, he slapped his alarm clock out of vengeance for the headache it was worsening and threw his feet over the side of the bed, wobbling slightly as the ground shifted severely under him. Carefully placing his feet on the ground, Aziraphale gripped his way to his bathroom, grabbing onto anything he could reach during his trip there. 

After reaching his destination and looking at himself in the mirror, he remembered why he didn’t drink to excess without miracling away the drunk before going to bed. It was because being hungover was a pain in the ass and made him look like he hadn’t slept in two weeks. If he was completely honest, he also felt like it. With a flick of his wrist, top to bottom, Aziraphale purged the effects of the alcohol from his system and wandered back to his freezer to set out the frappuccino he had placed in there yesterday from Crowley. It was going to need some time to thaw but he was willing to give it a shot if it meant beating off the last of the effects of the hangover from his system. One would think that a divine miracle would completely purge the symptoms of drinking to excess but apparently the Divine had a sense of humor and thought that it was worth a lesson to leave a bit of a headache in its wake. 

Given that it was such a rare occurrence for Aziraphale to leave the alcohol in his system, he didn’t keep painkillers in his bathroom cabinet nor did he carry them in his shop because well, it’s a bookshop, not a pharmacy or ASDA. He could text Crowley and ask him to bring him some or… Aziraphale looked around him before snapping his fingers together and letting the bottle of Excedrin materialize in his hands. Popping out two pills in his palm, Aziraphale wandered over to his kitchen and filled up a cup with water. Throwing the pills into the back of his throat, Aziraphale quickly chased them down with the water and let the set of pills settle into his stomach as he pittered around the kitchen, starting breakfast. 

He went for his usual fried eggs and bacon. Some mornings he went for sausage but he was feeling, shall he say, extra crispy, this morning. Warming a pan over his gas stovetop, Aziraphale cracked a few eggs over the pan and waited for the sizzle before going to work and frying them sunny-side up and over easy. Next, he popped some toast in the toaster while the eggs cooked and once the eggs were done, fried a few pieces of bacon in the still hot pan. By the time the bacon was quickly fried up, the toast was done and his breakfast was complete. Aziraphale sat the plate over his meager kitchen table (it was a small thing but there was only one person in the apartment so small was fine), he ate his breakfast with a side of orange juice and took a stab at the morning paper, catching the big news headlines before his food became cold and called it there. 

Next, Aziraphale threw on his suit (after a miracle to make it clean, shiny, and pressed) and went through the rest of his morning routine with a small smile on his face as the aspirins worked their magic and the headache away from him. 

Crowley woke up bright and early in Mayfair a mere few miles away. Thanks to getting to bed before 3 in the morning, Crowley woke up at the bright and early nine am. Rolling over to the sun barely cresting over the horizon, Crowley rolled back over to his wall side of the bed with a “hmph” and pulled his comforter over his face. He may have slept a good amount of hours but his body was also telling him that he was not used to being up before eleven am. 

Crowley’s phone started ringing nearly on cue as he started to drift off back to sleep. He reached over and popped the charging cord out one handed and brought the phone up to his ear with an extremely groggy “hello?” 

“Hello, Mr. Crowley?” a thick accent washed over the other end of the phone. Immediately, Crowley knew what this scam was but was too tired to be able to pull his usual bullshit trickery with him so he just gave a sigh and, 

“This is him.” 

“Hi, my name is Jessica and I’m here to tell you about a great offer on home internet servic-” Crowley brought the phone down and slammed it into his pillow out of rage, triggering the motion detected hang-up function of the phone. How dare those people interrupt his beauty sleep! 

Rolling over to his back, Crowley rubbed his eyes and picked the sleep out of them before sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed. As long as he was awake, he might as well get ready and get to the shop before Aziraphale set fire to it or something. He could probably use the company, anyway. He always seemed so lonely when Crowley walked through those front doors. Or maybe he was just that happy to see Crowley. Who knew? 

After shrugging his shoulders at his own internal monologue, Crowley stood up and wandered over to his closet. Sliding the doors open, he carefully looked over his (mostly) black collection of clothes and settled on a nice red shirt and black vest combination and some black skinny jeans with his snake belt. He laid all of the clothes he picked out across his bed before wandering off to the bathroom to start his morning routine. A quick shave on his face, a nice cologne to go with the outfit, a vigorous brushing of the teeth, and Crowley was ready to go. 

One hour later, Crowley found himself standing in front of the A.Z. Fell Bookshop. The Bentley was parked a half a block away and Crowley gave a nervous breath out before saunting in like he owned the place. The fake self-confidence hid the nerves in his guts from it being his first day as “partner” in the shop. He didn’t know how excited Aziraphale was going to be or if he was going to make a bigger deal out of it than he already had. Crowley, for once in his overly dramatic life, just wanted things to continue as they were. 

“What’s going on, Angel?” Crowley sauntered over to the check-out desk and practically draped himself over it. This was casual, right? 

“Oh goodness, you’re here early.” Aziraphale popped his head up from the back stack bookshelves behind the counter. Well, counters really. One half of the asymmetrical cut-in-two counter was for the computer and the other half was for the register; the larger half for the computer. 

“Yeah, went to bed early last night. Read some more of that book and took a soak. Knocked me right out.” Crowley picked himself up off the counter and walked back towards Aziraphale. 

“Goodness, the book’s not that bad is it?” Aziraphale’s face looked cross for a moment and then concerned. 

“Huh? Oh. No. No no no. I just meant reading it was relaxing and it helped me fall asleep earlier than five AM. No Angel, I would never insult a book of yours.” Crowley groaned internally. 

“I mean if you don’t like the book Crowley, then you don’t like it. It’s not going to hurt my feelings. Everyone has different tastes.” 

“No, listen I-” 

“I personally liked it but I also have a soft spot for period romances.” 

“Aziraphale, I like the book. It’s a good book. I’m just not used to reading late at night. It makes me sleepy because I get relaxed. The book itself is wonderful.” The two stopped for a moment while Aziraphale processed what was said before cracking a smile. 

“Oh good! I’m glad you like it! How much more have you progressed?” Aziraphale started shelving books again as he continued the conversation. Crowley stood beside him and started handing off the piled books in the cart next to them. 

“Quite a bit. I’m on chapter twenty-two. Godwin has just found Percival in the stockades at his home tower and they’re plotting their escape.” 

“Oh yes, I loved that part. Their escape is so romantic.” Aziraphale wistfully commented as he finished organizing the book in front of him. People didn’t shop behind the counter as it was more of a personal collection of books and extra copies for the floor, but he still kept things in order as he read through them or pulled for extra stock. 

“Well, don’t ruin anything for me. I still have a good section of the book to go. It’s a thick bugger.” Crowley grabbed another book off of the cart and handed it to Aziraphale who pondered the section of books in front of him for a moment before shelving it in between two old editions of the Bible. Crowley didn’t dare question Aziraphale’s personal organizational system. His store one? He’d question that all day if it was awful (surprisingly through, the Angel kept it pretty tidy). His personal one? He figured it was better to let sleeping dogs lie on that one. 

“Yes, it is.” Aziraphale sounded a million miles away mentally as he looked for a spot for the book Crowley just handed him. Moving down a few sections of the bookshelf, Aziraphale pulled an older copy of Dawkins before sliding in a religious philosophy book in its place. Again, made no sense but Crowley just continued to hand off the books from the cart and kept his comments to himself. “Still, for its thickness it does have a rich and vibrant story.” Aziraphale pickled up right where he left off comment wise as he went fishing for another spot to place his Dawkins book. “Probably in thanks to it, really.” 

“True.” Crowley left his comment simple and passed another book to Aziraphale once he found a spot for the previous book he was holding. The two let the next half an hour pass in relative silence as Aziraphale muttered to himself about the placement of his books as he shelved them and Crowley let himself enjoy the moment of relative bliss. The moment was ruined, however, as the bell above the front door of the business chimed. Aziraphale looked over at the two books left in the cart and back at Crowley before putting on his nicest tone and batted his eyelashes at the demon, 

“Crowley, can you be a dear and help them? I’m nearly done with reshelving. I’ll take over in a minute. Just go talk to them and find out what they need. I’ll be right behind you. Just make them feel welcome.” Crowley, balking at the sudden change in tone at his Angel, started to roll his eyes before remembering his new role in the business and sighed internally before nodding at Aziraphale and heading to the floor. 

“Welcome to the A.Z. Fell Bookstore. How can I help you today?” Crowley sauntered out to the floor to see a full flocked priest standing in front of him. A wave of panic came over Crowley before he forced himself to face the situation head on. 

“Hello my child, I was told this is place to come to for books on religious history and subtext. I’m looking for a certain book on the story of Mathew for one of my religious history students.” 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, sir. Let me walk you over there. The owner will be out in a minute. Religious history is his speciality. In the meantime, I can point you in the right direction.” If Crowley was nervous, you couldn’t tell it by the way he was acting or sauntering with the priest across the store. However, internally, he was screaming: _Stay calm and he won’t splash you with holy water. Just keep him happy_, _keep him happy, keep him happy._

“Over here is our religious history section. This section is broken up into biblical history stories in the Bible. Matthew should be right…… here, I believe.” Crowley shuffled to the left as he ran his finger over the spines of the books lining the shelves, stopping when he ran across a book he recognized as covering the story of Matthew. This meant he was probably in the right area, at least. “Here’s one in particular that’s a solid seller.” Crowley pulled the book out and handed it to the priest, begging for Aziraphale to sweep in and save him from this encounter as soon as possible. The priest gave a mild bow as he took the book and began to flip through the pages, doing a quick skim read of the first chapter. 

“This seems to be similar to what I’m looking for but I was more looking for something that focused on Matthew’s role as a tax collector before his role with Jesus.” 

“More historical, got it.” Crowley took back the offered book from the priest, reshelved in, and continued skimming the shelves. In his long times in Aziraphale’s shop, Crowley wasn’t one to shy away from reading the books, especially after Aziraphale organized his shop in the early 1900s and gave it a system instead of massive piles of books in all sorts of corners of the store. Given the time the two spent together, it was only natural that Crowley would crack open one from time to time. He found himself fascinated with the stories the humans told of the olden times, especially since Crowley was there for it and could call bullshit on pretty much any page he opened. Still, he found it interesting to see things from someone else’s point of view. 

“How about this one?” Crowley pulled out a book a few books down from the last one he pulled. He remembered this one vividly since he was sort of a co-author on it. Kinda-sorta-not really but he was interviewed by a scholar who got wind that Crowley was a biblical expert. Not sure how that rumor started but it made its way around none-the-less. Crowley dodged phone calls for months from people writing about the history behind Biblical times. You give one interview and suddenly you’re famous in the small circle of historians. He did all of this under a pseudonym, of course. 

The priest took the book gently and started flipping through its pages, skimming chapter one as he did before. Then he skipped to the middle of the book and skimmed a few pages along there as well. 

“I do think this is what I’m looking for. Thank you very much…” 

“Oh, Crowley. Crowley’s the name.” 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Crowley. I’ll take this book.” 

“Great, follow me to the front and I’ll get you checked out.” The two walked to the front, Crowley more of a fast paced saunter as he tried to keep his distance from the priest. The two reached the front and Crowley sat in the computer chair before he remembered that inventory hadn’t been done yet and using the electronic checkout system would be useless. “Sorry ‘bout that. I forgot we don’t have our online checkout system up and running yet. I’ll get you manually.” 

“That is no problem, my child.” The priest smiled kindly and it was all Crowley could do not to gag in retaliation. _Ugh_, _priests and their overly friendly attitudes_. 

“Reverend Joseph, how are you today? I’m glad to see you back!” Aziraphale popped up from behind Crowley and beamed a wide smile at the priest. 

“Friend Aziraphale, I’m doing well. How about yourself? I see you have yourself a new employee. He did wonderful today, I must say. Knew exactly what I was looking for.” 

“Oh, Crowley is actually my new partner! We’re getting the paperwork drawn up but he’s a long-time friend and a big supporter of the business. We figured it was time to take things official.” Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley’s shoulder and smiled at him. Crowley smiled back with a slight blush tinting his cheeks. 

“That’s a hundred and forty pounds, today.” Crowley placed the book in a small plastic sack Aziraphale kept around for his rare sales and placed it on the counter. The priest handed Crowley a check that was pre-filled out. 

“Oh behalf of the church. They’re very generous when it comes to the students.” 

“Reverend, this is a three hundred dollar check.” Aziraphale grabbed the check from Crowley’s hands and examined it like it had offended him. 

“I am aware. That is how much the church gave me to spend. I believe the rest should go to you as a charitable donation. You have supported my students in so many ways with your shop and I believe it is time to give something back.” 

“Reverend, we can’t take this.” Aziraphale handed the check back. Crowley’s eye grew three sizes bigger as he bit his tongue in defiance. Leave it to the angel to deny a gift horse in it’s mouth or whatever the phrase was. 

“I believe you can. And you will. Because I am not taking that check back. Have a good afternoon you two!” The reverend picked up his sack and dashed out the door before Aziraphale could get around the counter to force the check back into his hands. 

“Crowley, did you see that?!” Aziraphale whipped around after dashing to try and catch the priest. 

“I did. I think it’s quite generous of him. I think of it as a tip for all the work you’ve done curating this bookstore.” 

“Crowley, I can’t take that kind of overpayment! It’s over a hundred pounds!” 

“A hundred and sixty, actually.” 

“Not helping!” Crowley rolled his eyes and went back to writing down the sale in Aziraphale’s ledger. 

“Well, you have two options. You can either take the entire check or cash the check and return the money to the reverend in cash. Hell, you could even donate it back to the church. However, given how in the red you are, I would recommend taking that money as a very nice tip towards your services.” Crowley never raised his head from the ledger book he was writing in. Aziraphale huffed at his _partner’s_ advice but that didn’t stop it from rolling around in his conscious as a potential option. He was too heavenly to take money that didn’t technically belong to him, right? Was he even still an angel after what happened during Armageddon’t? If he wasn’t, then no harm no foul for taking the money. If he was though, then dire consequences could happen should he decide to defect back to heaven. He didn’t see that happening any time soon in the next millennia but Aziraphale was always one to keep his options open. 

“It’s not a simple decision as you think, my dear.” Aziraphale let himself fall into his computer chair and rubbed his forehead in frustration. 

“What factors? The only one would be if you decide to defect back to heaven. It would be considered a ‘sin’”, Crowley airquoted the word sin, “for you to take heavenly anointed money.” Aziraphale whirled on Crowley with his eyes wide in shock. Was he reading his mind? 

“I’m not reading your mind, I’ve just known you too long to not have some inkling of what you’re thinking. I also know you like to keep all your options open. You’re a safe person, Angel. You never work without a backup plan of some kind.” Crowley finished recording the sale in the ledger and poked his head up and locked eyes with Aziraphale. Aziraphale cast his eyes down almost immediately, having been so exposed by Crowley’s words. Crowley saw the look on Aziraphale’s face and quietly sighed. Leave it to his angel to make him feel like shit for his opinion on evil actions, and yes, he would admit keeping the money is kind of evil considering where it came from. 

“Look Angel, if you think the money should go back to the church, then take it back. No sense in getting yourself all worked up about this. It’s only two hundred pounds. Hell, most of your books cost that much. We can recoup it if need be.” Crowley drawled slowly as he forced the words out of his mouth. 

“Crowley, are you sure?” And out came the doe eyes. Crowley was a sucker for the doe eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just cash the check and donate the rest to his church. Just, augh, just do whatever you think is best.” It pained Crowley to say any of this but he knew the sort of moral conflict not doing so would cause Aziraphale to beat himself up for months if not years and seeing his _hopefully _one day life partner in pain was not worth a hundred and sixty pounds. He’d sooner cash out another war bond than see him in that sort of pain over a few measly pounds. 

“But you don’t think I should do it?” Aziraphale stood up and walked over to Crowley, looking up to look him straight in the eyes with a concerned look. 

“I think you should do whatever you think is best.” Crowley looked down at Aziraphale and forced himself to look and feel resolute in his decision. “It’s not worth a few hundred pounds to feel that shitty over it, Angel. Do what you believe in. You’re delivering the money though. I’m not stepping inside of another church. Feet burned for weeks after that last time.” Crowley shrugged and started wandering off towards the middle of the store, picking up the duster from underside cabinet of the check-out counter before heading out. Aziraphale gave him a soft smile as he walked away. 

The check weighed heavy in his hands, still. Aziraphale looked down at the rectangular piece of paper in his hands, addressed to his shop, and sighed. Things were never easy, were they? Setting the check down, Aziraphale looked up to see Crowley scowling at the bookshelves he had cleaned only a few days ago covered in another layer of dust. Or, he thought Crowley cleaned them. He was pretty sure Crowley cleaned them. The shop was clean and he found Crowley with cleaning supplies one morning. That seemed to scream that Crowley cleaned the store. 

He gave another smile at the demon before looking back down at the check huffing to himself. Maybe he should give himself lunch to think about it. It was about noon and he set aside his lunch time as one to two. Well, it was time to decide what they were going to have for lunch first and see if it was delivery or dine-in. 

“Oh Crowley?” Aziraphale chimed across the store. Crowley merely poked his head up and raised his eyebrows above his glasses. “What do you feel like for lunch, dear?” 

“I dunno, what do you think?” 

“Well, we haven’t had sushi in awhile.” Crowley walked up to the counter and leaned against it, lost in thought for a moment before nodding slightly. 

“Yeah, I can do sushi. Order it up, Angel.” 

“Wonderful, dine in or take out?” 

“Take out, I say. I’ll prep the back for us. I don’t think we can eat lunch in an hour with something as complex as sushi. If we order it night it might be ready and delivered by one. Order me some California Rolls and their side platter number two if you’re ordering from Sushi Heaven.” Aziraphale nodded and wrote down Crowley’s order on a sticky note before sitting down at his computer and pulling up the menu for Sushi Heaven to see what he wanted. 

All the meanwhile, the check sat alone and forgotten, tucked underneath Aziraphale’s ledger book. The check itself may have been forgotten but the weight of three hundred pounds sat squarely on Aziraphale’s subconscious shoulders and he hadn’t the foggiest idea why. 


	11. In Which Work is Done and Lunch is Had

Lunch arrived timely as ever. Both Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting in the back of the shop, eating away at the sushi and making light and pleasant conversation about the shop and its most recent guest. Crowley went off on an acting rant about priests flinging holy water and shouting “Begone Demon” that Aziraphale nearly shot his boba out of his nose. Overall, it was a pleasant lunch. Things were calm, they were enjoyable, the food was delicious, but something was still weighing on Aziraphale. It left him feeling heavy and sort of sad. 

“What’s the matter, Angel?” Crowley bit into the last of his last California Roll after popping the question. 

“What do you mean, dear?” Aziraphale pushed the fallen rice from his roll around on his plate, lost in thought. 

“You’re a million miles away and seem, quite frankly, miserable.” Aziraphale side eyed Crowley who was talking with his mouth full, yet again. It drove Aziraphale absolutely insane. 

“I just have a few things on my mind. Nothing major.” 

“It’s probably that damn check. Just figure out what to do with it and let it go. The longer you hang on to it, the longer you’re going to be upset about it.” 

“It’s a hard decision, Crowley!” 

“All the more reason to make it and move on!” Crowley threw his hands in the air before grabbing his plate and walking over to the wine counter to start a pile of dirty dishes. “I’ve already told you what I would do.” 

“Hnnnggg” Aziraphale made a noise at Crowley before diving back into his tempura roll. Silence passed between the two for several moments before Aziraphale spoke up again, “Are you saying I should keep the money because you think it’s a good will donation or because it’s an evil act against heaven?” 

“Why not both?” Aziraphale whirled on Crowley, “Just kidding! Jeeze, Angel. I think you should keep it because you’ve worked hard to curate this bookstore and the big man himself said that’s the reason he wants you to have the money. It’s a gift, plain and simple.” 

“It’s holy money, though. I can’t just be taking holy money from a House of God!” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s against the rules of heaven!” 

“I thought you didn’t work for them anymore.” 

“Well no, but their rules made sense.” Crowley merely rolled his eyes at the statement but gave a soft sigh and sat down next to Aziraphale, putting his hand on the angel’s leg. 

“Look Angel, I’ve said it once today and I’ll say it again. Do whatever you think is right. I’ll support you either way.” This was Crowley’s way of getting out of the conversation but he truly did mean it. He would support Aziraphale in any decision he made. Aziraphale merely smiled softly and put his hand over Crowley’s. 

“Thank you, dear. I guess I just needed to hear the argument over it again to help make the decision.” 

“That’s fine. Whatever you need.” 

The two finished up their lunch quickly after that. Aziraphale downed the last of his rolls and sides while Crowley packed up the rest of his fried rice and egg rolls for later, putting them in Aziraphale’s fridge upstairs and the dishes they used in his sink.. He also found a melting frappuccino sitting on Aziraphale’s kitchen table which he threw away as well. _Angel must have set it out to thaw and forgot about it._

Heading downstairs, Crowley stretched as he descended the stairs, a little stomach showing as he stretched his arms over his head and reached for the roof to pop his back. Aziraphale caught sight of it as he turned around to ask a question and did a double take before blushing slightly at the scene. He also had to admit Crowley looked very good in a vest and shirt combination. His hair was also slightly tousled, leading to a slightly professional bad boy look. Aziraphale was in love so hard. Crowley, of course, was ever oblivious to the angel’s pining. 

“Lunch was good. Thanks for the idea. Been a while since I had sushi.” Crowley miracled a toothpick out of his pocket and started picking at his teeth, cinnamon flavor. 

“Still having cravings?” Aziraphale inquired. 

“I’m doing good. Haven’t had a smoke in about a week and a half-ish.” Crowley quickly went from picking at his teeth to chewing on the toothpick. Between not causing chaos in a while to subdue his inner demon and not smoking, his stress levels were off the charts in addition to the work at the shop. It was a hard time for Crowley, in general. Still, he tried to keep some sort of a smile on his face for Aziraphale even though at times he just wanted to throttle the first person he could get his hands on just to release some of his pent up aggression. _Quitting is way too hard. Not sure how the mortals do it, _Crowley thought to himself. “So, what are the plans for tomorrow, Angel? It’s Sunday, that usually means inventory and accounting, according to the sign on your door.” 

“Well, I think it would be a good idea to start deep cleaning my store once a week. Why, did you have something in mind?” 

“Yeah, thought we could start putting your inventory into your inventory software.” 

“Ah yes, that one is Cin7, correct?” 

“Right. So, I was thinking, I would pop over on Sunday and start doing inventory while you do your budgeting. In your new software, I might add.” Crowley flicked away his chewed up toothpick (chewed to shreds in record time, Aziraphale might add) towards the nearest trashcan and pulled another from his pocket and started gnawing on it. Aziraphale made a noise at Crowley before letting himself think about the offer for a bit. 

Normally, he didn’t like anyone touching his books. However, this was Crowley he was talking about. Crowley had been really good to him over the years. He had been with him through the best and the worst of what life had to offer. Their arrangement was nearly as old as the Earth itself. Surly Crowley of all people wouldn’t do anything to his precious collections. 

“You know, that sounds wonderful, dear. I’m not exactly excited about this new software but I think with your help I can get it done.” Aziraphale flashed him a soft, small smile. Crowley gave a soft smile back and flicked his now gnawed to death toothpick in the trash can. 

“Sounds like a plan, then. Pop over around eleven and get started from there?” 

“Sounds excellent!” 

“Great, now let’s get this store back open so we can sell some more books. What do you say?” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley and practically pranced over to the front door and opened the store back up for their afternoon shift. 

The rest of the day went by without any noticeable events. Nobody stopped by to purchase anything. Crowley spent the afternoon going over the store with a sweeper while he sat Aziraphale to task with his Cin7 and learning the ropes of it so he could be prepared for tomorrow. 

Then Sunday came with a dead run of Crowley starting inventory on paper and Aziraphale cursing his computer every half hour or so for something he didn’t understand or something not working right. 

Monday came, Tuesday came, Wednesday came, it felt like day after day passed by with Crowley going shelf by shelf and Aziraphale spending every spare minute either on the help line with the company who produced the software or simply poking around on his own and figuring things out the hard way. 

By Thursday, Aziraphale had the majority of his budget from last week done. Crowley had managed to work his way to the generalized prophecy section by himself. However, shelves upon shelves of books made for slow work when taking down their details such as title, publishing year, publisher, and price. Not a lot of information, just the basics to get a digital inventory going. Not to mention updating the list whenever Aziraphale sold something. 

“So, Crowley, how are things going in the paper world?” Aziraphale had silently wandered away from his computer during a break and slid up beside a shocked Crowley who was off in his own world. 

“Satan’s balls, Angel! Make some noise when you walk. Scared me half to death.” Crowley dropped the book he was holding, flailed and juggled it a few times before catching it and shoving it back on the shelf. 

“Sorry dear, didn’t mean to scare you like that! Just wanted to check in and see how things were going.” 

“They’re not going bad. Just a slow process is all. Probably be more helpful if I was doing this with a laptop or something and inputting it directly into the software instead of writing everything down with a pencil and paper and _then _putting it in the software.” 

“Well, I think that can be arranged. I think the shop needs a tablet anyway, don’t you? After all, you need something to work on as well, don’t you think?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley with his usual smile and pep, and Crowley, ever the secret romantic, melted at Aziraphale’s suggestion. He was thinking of him. _The Angel does care_, Crowley thought to himself. 

“Well, one would be nice. It would make doing this a whole lot easier.” 

“Tell you what. Do your Google research and find a good solid one and I’ll give you my credit card to purchase it with. It’s an investment for my new bookshop partner!” Crowley sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before nodding and giving Aziraphale a grin. 

“Thanks, Angel. Let me finish up this section and I’ll start doing that. Don’t want to leave a half-done job.” 

The next week was spent with Crowley taking over the computer and doing research on the best portable tablets. Aziraphale swapped stations with him, carefully logging his books on a piece of paper and with a pen. He would occasionally stop to help a customer who had wandered in, mostly the churchy type of people. Crowley felt extremely grateful he could hang back on _those _types of customers, especially the full frocked priests. Never knew which ones were carrying the demon’s loaded gun (metaphorically, of course). 

Crowley simply rolled his eyes at his inner thoughts and continued to comparison shop between the three tables he had narrowed down on: the iPad Pro, the Surfacebook 2, and the Surface Pro 6. 

Friday came and went with Crowley settling on a tablet and by Saturday, the A.Z. Fell Bookshop was the proud owner of one Surface Pro 6 and a rolling standing laptop stand so Crowley could push the tablet around and record inventory. Crowley then spent the rest of Friday and Saturday loading up the essential business softwares onto the things and loading up the books he had already recorded into the database software and by Sunday, Crowley was running through shelves at twice the speed he was doing by pen and paper. Aziraphale spent Sunday, as usual, fighting with his new budgeting software. However, Crowley was happy to announce that it seemed like the two were coming to a consensus on how to work together. 

The next few weeks were a lull. Customers were still coming in, mostly the theology students. A few high schoolers were referred by the lovely couple Aziraphale dealt with weeks ago who picked up books on paganism and future telling. However, nothing major like throngs of people like the day Aziraphale took that long nap. 

Crowley continued to learn the ropes of helping people in between taking back over inventory and updating it as sales continued. According to Aziraphale, he was very grateful the software on the small computer talked to the software on the big computer. Crowley didn’t have the heart to tell him it was the same software doing different tasks, and it was an online software so it would always be up to date across any platform they used it on. He just simply nodded and agreed with Aziraphale who was pleased as punch at the developments going on in the shop. A stark contrast to the angel who just weeks ago was throwing hissy fits at purchasing his first updated computer. 

Still, work needed to be done so Crowley continued to do it. By three weeks after the tablet purchase, Crowley was nearly done with inventory. For such a small-appearing shop, it truly was larger on the inside. That Sunday, as Crowley input the last Bible from the last shelf of the infinite King James Bibles, he sighed to himself and congratulated himself internally for a job well done. It was going to be much easier tracking sales and seeing what sold and what didn’t. It was also going to make reordering a much much simpler task and they had a definitive list of what had just sold and what needed to be replaced right on their computer. Crowley hoped Aziraphale was just as excited about these prospects as he was. 

“We’re done, Angel! We’re finally done!” Crowley pushed the cart and laptop back to the front of the shop, practically dancing the entire way up there. 

“Have you finished inventory?” Aziraphale poked his head up from in front of the computer. 

“Just input the last book! And that includes the reading rampage you went on and bought all those new historical romances.” Aziraphale simply blushed at the mention of his guilty reading pleasure. 

“Yes, well, they are good books. You did like _Through the Armor’s Cracks_. You finished it last week I believe?” 

“I did! It was really good! I like the characterization and the world building.” Crowley leaned over on the standing desk and propped his chin up with his elbow. 

“I could recommend a few more books for your perusal if you want to pick up another.” 

“Maybe sometime soon. I’m focusing on the shop right now. We’re pretty close to finishing things up. The hardest part should be over. Should be smooth sailing from here.” Crowley waved his arm around to emphasize his point before standing back up and rolling the tablet and table to back behind the desk. “How’s budgeting going?” 

“A lot smoother now than when I started. Week five is proving to be a lot better than week one. Just basically inputting the new week’s information as I receive it. You were right Crowley. This software is so much easier than whatever I was doing on that old dinosaur of a computer.” Aziraphale giggled to himself and went back to focusing on the computer, typing away at the ten key to keep track of his numbers. Crowley was amazing at how quickly he picked up typing on an ergonomic keyboard. 

Crowley took a seat on the other side of the desk where in the recent weeks Aziraphale had moved the old computer upstairs but left the old computer chair for Crowley to sit in until they found the extra money to go purchase another computer chair. Azirapale insisted on buying it on the credit card while Crowley insisted they wait until they made enough of a profit to buy one. In truth, Crowley was simply going to cash out one of his prior venture capitals and surprise his Angel with it. Plus, he was probably going to need the money to float the business awhile. In the meantime, it wasn’t too much of a bother to sit on a ragged chair for a few minutes at a time. Crowley spent most of his time on the couch in the back of the shop anyway when he took his breaks. Maybe Crowley should buy a new couch while he was at it. The old one had a lot of memories but man was it getting to be in bad shape. Cushions didn’t want to hold them anymore. 

“So, Crowley.” Crowley perked up at the mention of his name and whirled around to see Aziraphale looking at him with his hands on his knees. 

“Yeah?” Crowley uncrossed his legs and put his feet flat on the floor, his right leg still bouncing slightly. 

“What do you say we celebrate?” 

“Celebrate?” 

“Yes! Celebrate all of our accomplishments! We’ve done a lot the past few weeks!” 

“That’s true, what did you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking of The Ritz, again. It’s always a classic!” 

“Alright, alright. Get the usual?” 

“Table for two in the showroom?” 

“Sounds excellent.. I’ll miracle in the arrangements.” With a flick of Crowley’s wrist and a snap of his fingers, a table for two mysteriously appeared on The Ritz’s reservations for tomorrow at one in the afternoon. “All set, Angel. We’ll be there at one.” 

“Absolutely splendid. I can’t wait!” With that, Azirapale gave a little bounce and turned back around to his computer to finish the week’s budgeting. Inventory was now taking care of itself with the new fangled technology Crowley brought in, as Aziraphale would say. 

With that, Crowley was again alone with his thoughts. Throwing his legs up on the counter, Crowley leaned back in the ancient chair and let his eyes close and his mind wander. 

The rest of the day passed with little to say about it. It was Sunday after all. No business to speak of since they were closed and most of the day was spent tidying up odds and ends. After a short ten minute nap, Crowley did get up and start dusting the shelves off. Aziraphale joined him after processing all of his sales and orders from the local seminary in his budgetary work. They were getting special orders of all things, for books! Crowley could hardly believe that it happened so soon. Aziraphale couldn’t believe it was happening at all. 

Still, things seemed to be going okay in the grand scheme of things. Business was picking up, word of mouth was getting out that a new age of the A.Z. Fell Bookstore was coming into play, and Crowley was now at the bookshop everyday, helping Aziraphale manage the business. Overall, things were nice. Aziraphale was very happy with where his life was at the moment. 

Then Monday came along. It was a rainy Monday, of all things. The perfect backdrop to staying inside with a nice mug of hot cocoa and reading a book on the sofa in the back of the shop (no matter how old and worn in it was, Aziraphale still loved it). But alas, business stopped for no cloud moisture and The Ritz was no exception to that rule either. By twelve-thirty, both Crowley and Aziraphale were dressed up and ready to shut the shop down for a few hours while they went out and celebrated their newfound business senses. 

“You finishing up, Angel?” Crowley leaned against the front door with a toothpick in his mouth. He had broken his non-smoking streak yesterday by taking a few quick puffs off an offered smoke from a guy smoking in his apartment garage, a moment of temptation reversal. Now his cravings were back and as bad as they had ever been. He had been living with a cinnamon flavor toothpick in his mouth since then. 

“Yes, yes, dear. Now, here’s your book, sir. Hope everything goes well with your research thesis! Let me know if you need anything else ordered!” The customer waved Aziraphale off and slipped past Crowley and quickly headed down the sidewalk, out of sight. “Now that he's gone, we can get going.” Aziraphale popped up from his computer chair and quickly dashed over to the front door, flipping the open sign to closed and taped up a sign explaining the long lunch closure to the bottom of the closed sign. He did hate tape marks on his door windows. Some were necessary but he tried to minimize them when possible. 

“Ready whenever you are. Just say the word.” Crowley pulled at the wrinkles in his dress shirt and pulled on his blazer as Aziraphale squeezed beside him and out the door. Aziraphale, dressed in his usual get-up, had failed to even mention how Crowley had dressed up for lunch for a change. The demon would have to admit it was miffing him a little bit. 

“Oh Crowley, I’m so excited! We haven’t been to The Ritz in forever. I cannot wait to get my hands on their duck. I’m quite peckish and ready to dig in!” Crowley uh-huhed him as Aziraphale continued talking about how excited he was for lunch as they settled into the Bentley. They were halfway to the restaurant before Aziraphale turned to Crowley and finally asked him what he wanted for lunch. 

“Well, I was thinking the Jacob’s Ladder. Maybe some red wine to go with it. Sounds pretty tasty to me.” 

“Oh, that does sound good. You’re making me rethink my duck.” Aziraphale continued to chatter about their food choices as they drove through Soho and into London. 

They reached the restaurant at a little before twelve-forty-five. Crowley checked them in and both Aziraphale and Crowley sat at a waiting table while the maitre-d got their table ready. 

“I must say dear, you look rather dashing today. What’s the occasion?” Aziraphale pulled at the drooping handkerchief in Crowley’s pocket. 

“This is the occasion, Angel. We’re having a special lunch. Celebrating the bookstore and all that jazz.” 

“You-you did this for us?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” 

“That’s very kind of you, my dear! My, if I had known I would have dressed up a bit nicer as well.” 

“You look fine, Angel. You’re practically wearing a suit as it is.” 

“Yes but apparently this is a really special occasion for you to dress up. 

“Angel, it’s fine-” 

“My, I’m feeling very underdressed at the moment.” 

“Look, will you just-” 

“Maybe I could pop into the bathroom and miracle myself a little nicer.” 

“Angel, please, let me-” 

“Oh dear, what could I snap on that would look good enough to match your outfit?” 

“Angel!” Crowley snapped, albeit quietly given how muffled the dining room was and the low level of conversation going on around them. Aziraphale stopped in his mental tracks and looked at Crowley with a shocked expression at his outburst. “You look fine, trust me. For once, I’m dressing up to your standards. I’m the one usually in jeans and a silk shirt. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You look great!” 

“Oh, well, thank you Crowley. It’s much appreciated.” Aziraphale ducked his head and blushed at Crowley’s comment, even if he was still a little shocked at the outburst, which was very unlike his friend. 

“Mr. Crowley, table for two?” 

“That would be us.” Crowley stood up with Aziraphale and followed the maitre-d to the middle of the dining room to a small post table with a white tablecloth. They both sat down and graciously took a glass of champagne from the server who came up to their table after being sat. 

Small chit chat happened throughout the meal. Crowley, for once, took his time to enjoy his food. He had to admit, maybe this eating thing wasn’t too bad after getting into it for a little while. Aziraphale ate like a regular human, three meals a day on average and with Crowley spending most of his days with him, that meant he was eating regularly too. He also had to admit that the humans were onto something with this steak thing. It was really good. 

The meal was a peaceful one. Both Aziraphale and Crowley took their time and enjoyed the ambience. They both shared a bottle of champagne (just the one, which was rare for Crowley) and savored their food. 

“So, Crowley.” 

“Hmm?” Crowley perked up at his name. He had just shoved a bite of his chocolate souffle in his mouth and was now stuck in an awkward position. He simply waved at Aziraphale to continue his thought. 

“I was thinking-” _This rarely ends well_, Crowley thought to himself. “That perhaps we close the shop for the rest of the day.” 

“Why would we do that? It’s a perfectly good day to stay open and sell books.” 

“Well, I was just thinking we’re taking the day to celebrate and what better way to celebrate than to close up shop and open up a few bottles of wine?” Aziraphale was speaking as though he had already made the executive decision to close shop and spend the day lounging around. Then again, that was really his default mode. He was really going to have to work on his habits when it came to his work ethic. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Angel.” Crowley sighed and put his spoon down in his souffle. “We’ve been working so hard to get things up and running and taking off now would really confuse and hurt our customers. We’ve already taken an extra hour and a half off for this lunch.” Crowley, for some reason now the pragmatic one, had to pop his little Angel’s bubble and bring him back into reality. 

“Do you think one day is really going to hurt all that much?” Aziraphale brought out his doe eyes. Crowley was weak for the doe eyes. 

“I think it’s a bad habit to get into. One day here, another day there, before you know it we’re back to opening whenever we wanted and closing whenever we wanted like before.” 

“C’mon Crowley, don’t you miss getting drunk on the couch and having arguments about whales? And it’s just one day. One day, darling.” 

“Hngk.” Crowley merely made a noise of noncommittal and took a drink of his champagne. He had to admit, taking the day off did sound nice, especially with the workload of the past few weeks. However, it just wasn’t a good idea, he thought, with everything they had been trying so hard to build up. Crowley thought about it for a moment in the dejected silence between them before asking, “What about Saturday?” 

“What _about _Saturday?” Aziraphale looked up from his chestnut meringue with a quizzical look on his face. 

“What if we took Saturday off, instead?” 

“What’s different between taking the rest of the day off today and taking off the entirety of Saturday?” 

“Give us time to put up signs of an impending closure and let our customers know what’s going on instead of a random closure. The closing isn’t the problem. It’s the disruption to our customer’s routines. If they know ahead of time something is going to change, they take it better.” _In theory, anyway_, Crowley mused to himself. He had to admit, it had been a long while since he had involved himself in a physical business with physical customers. He was more of a digital entrepreneur. He learned very early on that those were two very different kinds of customers. His Twitter ‘customers’ mostly just bitched in 140 characters or less or posted memes. 

“Well, I guess I can see your point.” Aziraphale pulled a pouty face as he reached for and drank from his champagne class. 

“Exactly, so, what do you say? Saturday would give us two days closed in a row, one day where we can actually relax.” 

“I guess Saturday would work. I just wanted to crack open that wine _now_.” Aziraphale whined. 

“I understand, Angel, but think about the customers. They’re your lifeblood now. Gotta keep them happy.” Crowley smiled at the waiter who brought them the ticket and slipped him his debit card while Aziraphale was distracted with the last of his meringue. 

“I suppose. Very well, Saturday it is then. I’ll make a sign when we get back to the shop to hang in the window.” Crowley raised his glass to Aziraphale, 

“A toast then, to us and the A.Z. Fell Bookshop.” 

“Agreed. To us, the world, and the bookshop.” The two tipped their glasses against each other with a small clink and finished up their lunches relatively shortly after. 

Back in Soho, Aziraphale started working on the sign first thing when they entered the shop. Using some left over printer paper he kept around for sign-making (not like he had a printer, anyway), he used his fountain pen to create a delicate and stand-out sign to show that this coming Saturday, they would be closed the entirety of the day for personal business. Crowley suggested saying extended inventory and shipment receiving but Aziraphale shut that down on the grounds that it would be lying and angels did not lie. Crowley kept his mouth shut on the fact that his retort would have been extremely rude and uncouth to point out the fact that he was banned from heaven so was he _really _an Angel anymore? So, Crowley decided to keep it to himself. 

Still, the rest of the day went by rather smoothly. They had three customers who came by and two of them purchased books. One purchased a book on the history of pagans and fortune telling and the other customer bought three copies of the King James’s Bible as a baptism gift for a set of triplets. Aziraphale found it to be a cute gift. Crowley merely rolled his eyes after he turned his back to the customer while stocking the shelves with new books. 

Tuesday and Wednesday came and went with nothing remarkable. The storms that moved in on Monday continued to linger around and kept the atmosphere wet, drizzly, and cold. Thursday came with a clearing sky and a morning full of fog. Friday came and passed with a warm front that led to Crowley taking an afternoon walk to secretly smoke while he walked around the local park down the street. Aziraphale merely looked him up and down and wrinkled his nose when Crowley got back and got within ten feet of him. Crowley rubbed the back of his neck and miracled himself in a new outfit once he scurried away to the back room to get rid of the smoke smell and used his spray breath freshener. He really had to kick the habit. 

_Just one more and then I’ll quit, just one more and then I’ll quit. I guess quitting never comes._ Crowley sighed at his own thoughts and tucked the black silk shirt he just changed into his pants and walked out from the back of the shop. 

“Well, you smell better at least. Quitting is hard dear. I should know. I smoked years ago back when it was in style.” Aziraphale commented as Crowley walked past him to start shelving books on the racks behind the counter. 

“You used to smoke?” 

“Oh yes, at my heaviest it was two packs a day. Cut down to one and after seven quit attempts, I finally managed to get rid of the habit. Goodness, it was hard.” 

“When was all this?” 

“Oh, around the seventies and eighties. Not too long ago.” 

“I never smelled it.” 

“You smoked just as heavy as I did back then. First thing to go on a smoker is their sense of smell, dearest. You should know that.” 

“I guess.” Crowley shrugged the comment off and tried to renew his purpose of quitting. If for nothing else to simply keep Aziraphale happy around him. The look of disgust on his face when Crowley walked by him after smoking made him feel really bad. 

The rest of the day went by without comment. Crowley chewed through twenty cinnamon toothpicks to quell his cravings and Aziraphale started cleaning the shelves of the shop in preparation for having the next day off. Both of them partook in a simple lunch of sub sandwiches and a glass or two of wine. 

Before they knew it, Friday had come to a close and Crowley left the shop with a small wave to Aziraphale as a quick walk to his Bentley and a small drive home. He had a lot to think about. Like, what could Crowley do to make the day feel special? He still had that special edition book gift kicking around. It had been sitting at home on his computer desk for what felt like months now. Well, in technicality, it had been months, two to be exact. It seemed like a good time, they had the day off, they were celebrating the success of the shop since renovations had started. Maybe it would be a good time to give it to him. 

Crowley mumbled to himself as he drove the short distance to Mayfair, mostly voicing his thoughts out loud about tomorrow. As he pulled into his parking garage, he killed the Bentley and stepped outside the car to the garage. It was quiet, only the night lights were on, giving Crowley the sense that it was as late as it felt. Darkness bled through the open concrete squares they called windows on the parking garage. Crowley could only sigh and head inside, letting his body go through the motions. 

He felt so heavy tonight, like his body was exhausted. His body was celestial, it shouldn’t feel tired, but it did. Going through the lobby, Crowley slapped the up button on the elevator and caught the door as soon as it descended up from an upper floor and opened up for him. Riding the card, Crowley checked his phone and sent off a quick text to Aziraphale, “anything i should bring over for tmmrw?” 

Slipping the phone back in his back pocket, he rode the ride to the fourth floor in silence. It wasn’t until Crowley had his key in the door that his phone chimed with a text message. Twisting the key in the door, Crowley opened the door and dropped his keys in a bowl on a table beside the door and walked over to his couch and let himself fall into it. It was only then he fished out his phone and checked to see who was texting him. Aziraphale’s name graced his phone along with a small message of “Lunch, if you feel like picking it up on the way. Or we can have it delivered, your choice.” Another message beeped just as Crowley was about to unlock his phone to reply, “What were you thinking in terms of food?” 

Crowley leaned his head back into the arm cushion of the couch (because it’s not like he ever sat on them properly, it was always laying across the entirety of it) and thought about it for a moment. He came up with nothing. “What are you thinking of?” he finally texted back. 

“How does indian sound? Or italian?” The reply was quick from Aziraphale, who was probably waiting on Crowley’s messages. The only thing that went through Crowley’s mind at that point is that chicken tikka masala was the national dish of England and quite frankly, it sounded good. 

“I could be dwn 4 some indian. I’ll place an order b4 i leave tmmrw. Wat do u want?” 

“Oh, I’ll go for some jalfrezi.” 

“Cool, I got it. C u tmmrw angel.” Crowley tossed the phone on the couch beside him and let out a long sigh, feeling the tension leave his body as he finally relaxed. The past few weeks had been hard; on his feet nine to eleven hours a day cataloging books, researching in depth computers for the shop, helping Aziraphale with his budget. Owning a physical business was hard, as it turned out. Still, he did sign up for it and it did make Aziraphale happy so Crowley was, well, he wouldn’t say happy to do it but he had no complaints about doing it. He was content with doing it was more accurate to say. 

With that thought, Crowley pried himself off of the couch and grabbed his phone and headed towards the bathroom where he took a quick shower and got ready for bed. Sitting in bed and in his pajamas, Crowley quickly dashed out to his living room and grabbed the plaid package sitting on his computer desk and set it beside his key bowl. Tomorrow would be the day, it would be a great day for it in fact. 

With that, Crowley sauntered off to bed, ready for tomorrow. Somewhere in Soho, Aziraphale caught a feeling of excitement as he drifted off to sleep and no idea why. 


End file.
